Blueberry bushes touch in the dark
And their branches sway in the slight
And ever so brisk breeze.
The color of 1 am paints the ground
And stars speckle the sky,
Unlit by the lights of the others.
A home is created on the hill
Where a couple lies contemplating
The steps of their new future
Built by calloused hands and dirtied nails.
The soil falls away, leaving a space
Where they float together
Alone with themselves,
No longer running from the clock.
(r.e.)
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
Blueberry bushes touch in the dark
And their branches sway in the slight
And ever so brisk breeze.
The color of 1 am paints the ground
And stars speckle the sky,
Unlit by the lights of the others.
A home is created on the hill
Where a couple lies contemplating
The steps of their new future
Built by calloused hands and dirtied nails.
The soil falls away, leaving a space
Where they float together
Alone with themselves,
No longer running from the clock.
(r.e.)
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