Saturday, February 10, 2007


we run
through the meadows
of a lazy time
silly childish laughter
fills the air
with a smell of freedom
and a sense of the infinite

like rain drops
we fall
crystal clear
washing clean the slate
to doodle new worlds again

waiting for the Sun to set
in the quiet where
echoes of a distant past
rhyme with the melodies of the future
but my friend,
the Sun never really sets.

No comments: