In the hazy syrup of my dreams, I’d wake,
To the sighs of a sundown, faintly cold;
And hummings from the goldfinch perched
on midsummer grass, wet with dew.
The sky made me recall the streaks
Of Doldrum colored blues; Lingering,
Like that sap, along the stiffened Yarrow.
Or an oak grove down the yonder field.
Oct 5, 2024
Oct 5, 2024 at 10:11 PM UTC
In the hazy syrup of my dreams, I’d wake,
To the sighs of a sundown, faintly cold;
And hummings from the goldfinch perched
on midsummer grass, wet with dew.
The sky made me recall the streaks
Of Doldrum colored blues; Lingering,
Like that sap, along the stiffened Yarrow.
Or an oak grove down the yonder field.
