Ah,
but where are my friends?
I envy those who
sleep beneath the ground
as I toss and turn
beneath my sheets.
The rain coats the windows,
the clear paint on the wooden walls,
sheets of gray steel on the sidewalk,
blank faces in the windows--
the quietude, the quaintness, the
quilt of rain in the forests
and dripping from the roofs.
And where are my friends?
Away, miles away,
far from my wet eyes.
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
Ah,
but where are my friends?
I envy those who
sleep beneath the ground
as I toss and turn
beneath my sheets.
The rain coats the windows,
the clear paint on the wooden walls,
sheets of gray steel on the sidewalk,
blank faces in the windows--
the quietude, the quaintness, the
quilt of rain in the forests
and dripping from the roofs.
And where are my friends?
Away, miles away,
far from my wet eyes.
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