Side-writing, Side-winding 

There’s a dark blood in the grass
And a wind that ruffles the hair
Futures lap the past
Blurring twilight, tree and air
Wondering into the night
…Am I here?

Drifting off to sleep
A long walk through a dream

Where all the paths end
The mists rise, my river bends
The doors close shut
And a new world opens up…

No one knows when you go

The pack falls away
The twilight and the frey
Not grey, but silver…

Winds of the world
Drifting off to sleep
Like a clover in the stream
A long walk through a dream

And a seamstress gently
Pulling apart all the seams.

Permanent Link | RSS
© 2003-2014 Jessica Mae Stover • All Rights Reserved • Webmaster: Iain Edminster • Design: Greg Martin