Sunday, January 11, 2009

It's all been said before

You're supposedly the part time lover
And full time friend.
The craggy steep hill
And where the road bends.

You're the last train home
The scenic myopic route
The hand that keys the thoughts
The head that walks on air

You're the secret that I keep
The cries of the gulls
The storm that beckons
The story still unfolds