Hours have lived
and died
in the space of this whisper:
Something playful,
but also unfriendly,
the invitation to a fight.
Anger is the twang
of a breaking guitar string -
startling, abrasive, then gone;
all an act,
and the remembrance
of everything unnecessary.
So he dances like
leaves falling in autumn,
barely aware of himself,
and taken
by even the slightest twist
of an outgoing breeze.
_________________________________________________
Song of the Day:
Shad, The Fool Pt 3 (Frame Of Mind)
