When the spring winds fell into my lap
and my stride began to fatigue
and the taste of new days
often soaked in reminiscence
became too difficult to stomach
I tied the skyline around my soul
and made curtains from the sun
to shade the windows from the grey
of afternoon storms
when all the speeding and whirling
thoughts fall into my lap
they intertwine with a breeze
drifting from place to place