the echo ran along the wall across the dew moist grass and fell like a plea upon my ear the sky was bruised to a deep blue and as i fell to a dizzy thought and found myself on my knees isnt it strange we never notice the pavement till we kiss it and i frenched this piece
her southern belle voice reached down into my dizzy thoughts and with a strong finger grasp of her will pulled me back to reality and up off the floor lest a skeeter get 'cha i humbled a thanks and together we made the parkway
the echo danced a little ballerina twirl on my eye socket for half the night sky beginning to clear like my head after all that deep winter snow is thousands of miles north and a million years from here the flashbulbs start popping as some celeb wanders by catch his drunk eye and without having to say so he wished he could swap places with me as the camera hounds followed him up the road poor slob lest a skeeter get 'cha
the echo waited in the denver snow and followed to the motel down on broadway where she probably still waits for me to come tapping on the door but that town is far behind me and for that im grateful
her thin pale white hand trembles on your arm and she looks up at you with a clear desire to be heard push your yesterday but your strength waxes and wanes as versions of yourself echo down the wall across the dew moist grass