(have you ever felt at home with someone
wherever they are, there is your home
just as long as you were near them)
as kids with broken homes
things still stayed with us. and we longed
for something or someone
but we found no solution.
we are both sensitive, walls ten feet high six
bricks deep and we don't even see these walls
the children of broken homes gazes unseen; aloof.
time tries to make it better, send us people who wait
outside our walls but time also holds nothing; we aren't passengers when time passes us by. But
(when I dreamt, I felt at home with you
& I wrote, to find a place for two
but pain grows roots, & it held on to you)
strandard, displaced, broken tunes we dance off to.
strandard, displaced people face walls of vacant rooms
where children, I suppose, peak out to
"September's Moon"
(1:19 8/9)
~~
(Writer's note:
if had an alternative title -to September's Moon-
'All flowers in time bend towards the sun'
by Jeff Buckley & Elizabeth Fraser )
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