Monday, April 21, 2008

Medley

When my heart begins to freeze,
I don my Sunday morning jacket.
I sleep in shade of screaming trees,
finding peace amidst the racket.

I don my Sunday morning jacket,
as I count the dimming stars:
finding peace amidst the racket,
making cots of hard-top cars.

As I count the dimming stars
I am also counting crows.
Making cots of hard-top cars,
their squawking grows a bit verbose.

I am also counting crows
whose speech is modest as a mouse.
Though their squawking grows verbose
when playing to a crowded house.

Whose speech is modest as a mouse?
Ask my friends Elliott and Kurt.
When playing to a crowded house
they found a cure to all their hurt.

I ask my friends Elliott and Kurt
when my heart begins to freeze.
They found a cure to all their hurt,
asleep in shade of screaming trees.

1 comment:

jordan said...

very much enjoyed friend. nice writing.