dusty winds carry the tumble weeds of your heart; those wayward ideologues of love, ***** nilly, like time’s arrow down every street. ~~~ sometimes they catch in the shrubs by my house, other times in the sewer grate down at the corner, but always, always they sing, like whistling tears, and dance with a barren earth to a melancholy tune. ~~~ tumbling down every street I see you and try to hold onto your slippery sighs thinking you may sing your tears for me, creating in my garden the colors Of Spring. ~~~ but you slip through these fingers, lifeless, tumble **** light, blowing down every street.
Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.16.16 Note: the title of this poem is from the song “On Every Street”, which is also embedded with the poem.
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