Song of Longing
When reason called us in its pattern We obeyed as if entranced or certain Marched in habit to its power
verses and musings of j stoeckmann, all rights reserved.
When reason called us in its pattern We obeyed as if entranced or certain Marched in habit to its power
Screaming hot like ice in free fall Black jade bubbling up within her guts Limp inertia pressing lips, nose, skin
Take this oak its broad umbrella green and massive Leaning comfortably upon its nest of feet below Without a care