Thursday, September 08, 2005

Untitled

In fields of grey wet winter birth,
With cracking trees of bone and earth,
I see you walking with me . . .
Holding hands and whispering.
And as the sky grows dark,
I turn and kiss you on your cheek,
Tasting that lonely tear.

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2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

just remember I knew you before you were famous!

September 11, 2005 9:21 p.m.  
Blogger M'Adair said...

too kind you are

September 12, 2005 3:28 p.m.  

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