Byrd and blue ink
a pill for this, a pill for that
change
clouds talk to me
my hands tremble
who is he
a ghost
change is good
growth
the sun burns his vision
it can never be dark enough
he keeps a cloud
in a box
in his front pocket
a prisoner
captured during the war
the trumpet plays
in his memory
he meets someone new
he takes a pill
his hand trembles
the clouds remind him
change is good
Byrd plays
ink dances
he keeps the ghost
with the cloud
in a box
inscribed on the lid
change is good
B
No comments:
Post a Comment