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Feb 2017
Hold my hand
turn to me and tell me "run"
close my eyes
breathe in deep
breathe out lightly
feel the tapping on the snare drum
living in my feet
papering my skin with canvas
to paint over my mistakes
so lets get on planes to the horizon
moss beneath feet
mirrored in the lakes water
breath doesn't fog this glass
caught in brambles
make a bed of leaves
for us to lie on
glancing at the sky
pointing out places to fly  
kissed my each of my fingertips
smiling saying "My oh my"
calm forest summer eve
hearing just cicada screams
Written by
Astor  Intercourse PA
(Intercourse PA)   
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