When life
becomes a vagrant
and death
an unsung train
there you will find me
oozing notes into night's horn
moon-beams drenched
with midnight's blues
rattle, ripple, shake
distorted city light
dancing barefoot
on crescent waves
I ponder,
wander,
wait.
to reflect
upon reflections
- as the moon,
in her wistful way,
seeps sonatas
of wayward days
and in the distant dissonance
of constant consonance
She, too,
waits.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
When life
becomes a vagrant
and death
an unsung train
there you will find me
oozing notes into night's horn
moon-beams drenched
with midnight's blues
rattle, ripple, shake
distorted city light
dancing barefoot
on crescent waves
I ponder,
wander,
wait.
to reflect
upon reflections
- as the moon,
in her wistful way,
seeps sonatas
of wayward days
and in the distant dissonance
of constant consonance
She, too,
waits.