Play me your homemade song. Go for a ride. Take me along. Swing me on portraits shifting like sand…
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You throw stones expecting ripples on a pond, and find yourself ankle, knee, head deep in my life long search for what is worth more…
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Scales balanced, eyes turned to the value market learned: compare the subtle leanings ensnared in double meanings, entirely believing this is fair…
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Flowers I can’t rearrange. Flowers painted in a vase, in a frame, and on my wall, left that way for one and all…
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Like soot to a fireplace, dust soon takes its place upon the books on my shelf, so too upon my brow…
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