Friday, February 20, 2015

Across The Miles

Stones shrink time sun stopping
thought the poet spoke about fingernails
care digging in this was love at that place
all over the place traveling all over some
sort of ambassador people stop listen look
throw caution dust burning eyes faces up
precious shade of olives their branches

Give me a few days to pick the fruit
drying time without doubt gather jars
shout into them lift without growling

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