i have known nights
where men walk the sun
and the stars count people
sheep huddle together
in grassy fields
dreaming
of fences
worn down
see, the funny thing
about nights is
at some point
you can’t tell the difference
between the first
and the last
(And hey,
****** ******
The cat’s lost his fiddle
Orion’s got a belt
Round his neck)
the lass
on the moon
plucks planets
from the blue
and decorates
the tangles in
her hair
see, the funny thing
about dreaming is
at some point
you can’t tell the difference
between what hurts
and what doesn’t
(The cat’s started drinking
Orion’s stopped thinking)
dawn
decides to sleep in
for just
another hour
or two
see, the funny thing
about nights is
i have always known them
but know nothing
of you
(And the fiddle has gone out of tune).
love to miri and loor for helping me out