the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

In the Company of Thieves

I'm overstepping into holes
Trying to find a hand to hold.
I'm directing traffic,
It's getting old.
The whispering trees.
The moon is gold.
But then rustling leaves explode
In a burst of words
I should've known.
You fire empty shells, but I don't respond.
It's dead,
But still you fire on.
You point this gun in every direction
And your selfishness is my resignation.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

My blog feed doesn't update your posts anymore. This is really irritating.