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johnny-vaccaroPoems
Shifting through the snow I don’t walk I fly Passed the children Passed the mothers Passed the fathers I’m not on their level I don’t speak I lay back and enjoy the ride I let go and although I am flying my mind is not racing I am fire I am body and soul Undetectable On a mountain filled with white wallows Marshmallows and trees that turn everything soft I like soft things I like flying I don’t want to leave I want to stay and lay here In the clear and quiet atmosphere of the wilderness Like Thoreau Call me a dead poet Call me a doctor I only have one alter ego and it is a snowbird Take me back to Utah
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Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 2:35 AM UTC
Snowbird
Shifting through the snow I don’t walk I fly Passed the children Passed the mothers Passed the fathers I’m not on their level I don’t speak I lay back and enjoy the ride I let go and although I am flying my mind is not racing I am fire I am body and soul Undetectable On a mountain filled with white wallows Marshmallows and trees that turn everything soft I like soft things I like flying I don’t want to leave I want to stay and lay here In the clear and quiet atmosphere of the wilderness Like Thoreau Call me a dead poet Call me a doctor I only have one alter ego and it is a snowbird Take me back to Utah
Written by
johnny-vaccaro
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 2:35 AM UTC
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