Steel grey clouds early in the morning,
A woman in black walking ahead of you…
Until you say her name.
I pause mid stride on a carpet of leaves
And turn, flashing you a smile
through the streaks of my red hair.
You may see the calm, smooth surface.
The white light of many colors
Peering at you through a prism.
And there is something in the light,
Words I have locked below the surface.
Though you’ve take my hand,
My will demands silence,
Lest I lose the many colors
... again.
No comments:
Post a Comment