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chris-weallansPoems
Brittle bright iced morning Sun screaming across a harmonic sky Misty windows clearing. Work clatters to a halt You sip cantina coffee and listen As children beg biscuits October afternoon The Sun, behind the mist, between the trees Pretends to be the Moon. The iron runs steaming Its slow warm dance across the shirts and sheets As quiet evening falls. You spark words with a friend Discuss the politics of open love With no point to defend. I saw you once resting Sweeping the hair from you lips with your hand You gave a glancing smile. These fine thoughtless moments Like unexplained dreams will last forever Are dreams but dancing dust? Is all of this madness? If so I cling to this insanity Plain, Beautiful, Hopeless!
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
Thoughtless Moments
Brittle bright iced morning Sun screaming across a harmonic sky Misty windows clearing. Work clatters to a halt You sip cantina coffee and listen As children beg biscuits October afternoon The Sun, behind the mist, between the trees Pretends to be the Moon. The iron runs steaming Its slow warm dance across the shirts and sheets As quiet evening falls. You spark words with a friend Discuss the politics of open love With no point to defend. I saw you once resting Sweeping the hair from you lips with your hand You gave a glancing smile. These fine thoughtless moments Like unexplained dreams will last forever Are dreams but dancing dust? Is all of this madness? If so I cling to this insanity Plain, Beautiful, Hopeless!
chris-weallans
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chris-weallans
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
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