They call me the deer girl,
I speak with and of their
eyes, their steps delicate and
lilting.
Brown pools of soul encased within thin faces,
Nibbling at tomato plants,
A stranger's garden.
Strange encounters with wandering
animal souls.
Summer is here,
Where did Winter go?
I speak with and of their
eyes, their steps delicate and
lilting.
Brown pools of soul encased within thin faces,
Nibbling at tomato plants,
A stranger's garden.
Strange encounters with wandering
animal souls.
Summer is here,
Where did Winter go?
No comments:
Post a Comment