Monday, September 5, 2011


Afterwards when I do that
will be the bridge of my life
that marks my passing,
When I'm ashes gone nothingness
open me up over that
snake railroad & ragged
offside farm--
I imagined many lives there
many lives grown old lives
simple without suitcase and
acres instead of 137 miles,
but what can I do?
who can I be?
frozen watching those spectral
bridges--in heaven.

No comments:

Post a Comment