don’t play staid hymns
and dignified
marches through arches
carrying boxes of
kleenex and talks of
the stories of past
over glories I’d rather
a rainstorm a cloud
formed of droplets a
breeze through the
trees and smooth stones
in my pockets with holes
leaking breadcrumbs
telling you come
where I am but later
for now chase a
rainbow a moonglow
a starshow love
things that I love now
Felt like you were ringing the changes, the way you sang through all these shifts in sound. Started to write out my favorite lines but then realized it was practically the entire last two-thirds of the poem. Lovely.
oh thank you 🙂