Foolish September rises and falls. Life is before me now though hidden over hills too far to see. My world is here and there. . . and fear builds every minute. I lay awake with eyes open wide and stare into the back-lit morning. Life's too foolish to carry on, but I'm to much the fool to care. Here and there; lost and found; home but on the bus still waiting for a stop. Foolish September bleeds the hope right from me. Still. . . dawns come every morning with their music and perfumes. Set outside of glory sleepy morning breaks in on me, and foolish September dies out the sunset window; drowning as the deep Pacific boils to take it in.
never have liked the brakish waters everyday rolls down on me. spoken from the heart right to another. here's to drawing still more in on this journey of everyday and opening something new and raw.
c.z.h.
Posted by: coalman hoffa | Oct 06, 2005 at 02:25 PM