…in the night.
Out of sight
in your room,
shadows loom
and then fall
from the wall
like dry leaves
from the trees
in the park.
In the dark,
a light breaks
up a lake’s
looking glass.
Broken grass
blades stick in-
to the skin
of a hill,
and you feel
all its pain
as the rain
licks the street
with your feet
still on it.
Bit by bit,
you begin
to unspin
every line
of each fine
work of art
in your heart
when things fall
apart. All
you still want
now is what
you have not
really got…
…in the night. Out of sight in your room, shadows loom and then fall from the wall like dry leaves from the trees in the park. In the dark, a light breaks up a lake’s looking glass. Broken grass blades stick into the skin of a hill, and you feel all its pain as the rain licks the street with your feet still on it. Bit by bit, you begin to unspin every line of each fine work of art in your heart when things fall apart. All you still want now is what you have not really got…