Pulling the softened irises
From the mud in the darkened yard.
Pulling the statued eyes
From the window that is barred.
The night the air made way
For the golden mountain love song
Whose lyrics stung “God save!
Sing lonely! She’ll be gone long.”
But the empty field rang silence
Beneath the pleading marsh
Clipping shoulders ‘gainst the fences
Where the neighbors began the march.
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC
Pulling the softened irises
From the mud in the darkened yard.
Pulling the statued eyes
From the window that is barred.
The night the air made way
For the golden mountain love song
Whose lyrics stung “God save!
Sing lonely! She’ll be gone long.”
But the empty field rang silence
Beneath the pleading marsh
Clipping shoulders ‘gainst the fences
Where the neighbors began the march.
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