waiting for a touch
they call them the 5:15 birds.
in the mornings cool and crisp
dew on the edge of every breath
the birds narrate life frankly
not just life, my life
and they never lie
more often than not
they are my lullaby
and my history
my thursday morning
(the call that never came)
is their favorite story
their mindful chorus
the precious
the 5:15 birds.
in the mornings cool and crisp
dew on the edge of every breath
the birds narrate life frankly
not just life, my life
and they never lie
more often than not
they are my lullaby
and my history
my thursday morning
(the call that never came)
is their favorite story
their mindful chorus
the precious
the 5:15 birds.
posted by kileyd at 3:17 PM
1 Comments:
whenever I read you blog, I always wonder, what's your story? not in the biographical, born-and-raised here sense, but in rather in the sense that I wonder how a person gets to such a place, so eloquent yet seemingly so sorrowful at times?
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