Monday, October 05, 2009

28 Days. Prompts 03 Monday 5th

I dreamt of the perfect story

Tell me about the future, I want to know

For five days we waited

A crisp, fresh page

Remember me when you are gone

I am too well to be a poet

It is like, after too far in the rain, you see a light

There is a cold field somewhere, and gold

After, we laid in the sun and wept

Where is the boy now, what is he?

Owl, white as light

We could build a bridge, or a castle

You will wake soon, I will go

This will need to be checked out, then we'll see

At your ear, something breathless, rising

Where dead feet walked

I walked with sorrow, listening to her silence and understanding

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