Pond
Perfect Four
Chalked out visioned dreams drawn out by tiny prophet handsYet worn out by time gets to the problem that I amRoadside clover patch, searching for the luck I lackCatch my eye as I untwine, only to find three smiling backSimply to beClear to seeThe cement is spreading wide as the flowers push on throughCausing webs of cracks to spread; what can a mother do?Residues of greens and blues smeared by the feet of dayA child's work, a friendly wash, down to dull, flat greysSimply to beClear to seeI know I don't know much, but I stand without a crutchShiny shards of broken glass lay down like a promise in the grassFound the perfect four; it takes a whileYou used to smile, you used to smileCome on fortune fish define; come and curl up in my handAs the tapestry that's weaved confers up all my plansReading out the years into the rings of grainNow a stump, once a tree on which we carved our names
From Letras Mania