I look upon a flag
With stripes red and white
The stars among the blue
Midnight summer’s night

High above our heads
Flapping in the wind
It reminds us of our freedom
And also of our sins

I looked at it critically
Was it red enough, plump enough,
Will it be juicy still?

Will it live up to its promises?
Nobody wants a dry peach.
I'd better leave it, I thought.
God knows what it will be like.

And then it dawned on me:
This is a peach in September.
Grab it, eat it - as quick as you can!

For this is September,
and peaches are rare in December.

I walked around the world today
and tried to count my steps
But everything that came my way
just took away my breath
Shortened, strained and surface deep
I felt my chest release
Quiet whispers I'd not keep
for they would one day cease
Blurry eyed and hazy souled** 
I spilled into the dark
Ill prepared and not yet gold
I'd barely felt a spark
Nothing etched into my life
'cause my degree was low
Patience weathered turned to strife
so I would never glow
Sipping words too hot to touch
I'd burned up what's inside
Insensitive and calloused much
my skull had opened wide

By Day

make a point of smelling the air reeeeal good every morning -
almost tastes like the mountains. like apple pie so crisp it
cuts you open,
spills you out in the leaves.
leaves
go play in them. Make your mountains if you need to be dwarfed some
times it's worth accepting lightly
the way the sunshine tips its hat and colors you flat on your back.
These scenes are meant to be stared at by awestruck, nameless people.

By Night**

the cold might surprise you , he's an old friend who
missed you dearly.
in a good, warm, windswept way be prepared to
lose your favorite socks, and part of your
concept of self,
and find laced-up fingers that more than make up for it
don't shut the blinds
always bring a blanket and
openness, writhing and bursting curiosity ready to
trap the last flash of storm before morning-time
will slow and you will become raw
in the moonlight.
Make music out of the air by the fire, there's so much to love.

Sometimes I feel so numb
Like I have no heart no soul
Other times I'm overwhelmed with emotions
Enough love to fill the world
Sometimes I feel like you're the only one for me
Like you're the very air I breathe
And other times I want to rip your heart out
I hate everything about you
Sometimes I love you
And other times I don't
Am I crazy?

Leaves are a little bit like girls
When I see a really crunchy looking leaf
I want to march up to it and step on it
Hear that sweet sound of spring’s death
Bringing way to autumn's beauty
With all her vivid colors
The changing trees swaying
In the chilling breeze

Leaves are a little bit like girls
When I see a really pretty girl
I want to march up to her and say something catchy
Something smooth
Something groovy, like,
“Hey darling.”
“Congratulations on your face. It’s beautiful.”
Caught off guard by such forward bravery
She’d be taken aback by my chivalry
Opening the door to opportunity

Although leaves are a little bit like girls
There are distinct differences
And I know you can all be my witnesses
A leaf is waiting to be crushed
Like a back waiting to be popped into place
Girls aren’t so fond of ginger boys
Or even ginger men
To come straight up and lift them on the pedestal of admiration
Girls are shy too; it's not just me
I simply want to say
Something to make her smile
Like, “I want to talk with you a while”

Leaves are a little bit like girls
No matter how hard you try to rake them in
They blow away in something
As light as the wind

Timidly comes the lavender moon,
Who approaches singing a moaning tune,
Begrudgingly greeting a setting sun,
Are you there, pal?
“Yes, but the day is done.”

Darkness rushes into the valley,
Trouble stirs in the cold back alley,
The moon lets out a hazy bellow,
Are you there, pal?
“Yes, but aren’t you an odd fellow.”

The twilight hue turns black as night,
The moon ascends; he’s scared of heights,
Sick to his stomach, he might just lurch,
Are you there, pal?
“Yes, but I don’t fix hurt.”

Trees bear the burden of fresh dropped snow,
The birds and the critters have nowhere to go,
Dismayed by the thought of broken homes,
Are you there, pal?
“Yes, but I’m all alone.”

So many sights and people to see,
But he can’t stop thinking about his *** ‘ole knee,
The moon, desperately, into the void,
Are you there, pal?
“Yes, but I’m just a boy.”

Conversation just to pass the time,
The moon sums up a nursery rhyme,
The boy asks the moon a question, too,
Are you there, pal?
“Yes, but I’m kind of blue.”

Blue or green, he says, it’s all in your head,
You could just as well be yellow or red,
It’s nothing more than a mix of light,
Are you there, pal?
“Yes, but it’s been a long night.”

The boy walks out to the edge of the cliff,
Asks the moon, please, to give him a lift,
He reaches down with a wispy hand,
Are you there, pal?
“Yes, and I understand.”