Foggy New england morning (first)

[xantipopeninjax]

Put on clothes
After four-hour
Prison shift
Dreams.
Autumn is
Crawling over the
Mountains like a
Bright orange
Hedgehog
And this morning there is fog
White fog
As far as the eye can see
Which is like
A puddle
Or a mirror
Or a canvas.

Indoors
The same hearts
Are stolen by the
Same song
From a generation ago
And they sing along.

And there is time
In this one morning
For enough beautiful thoughts
To fill a whole lifetime.
And Contentedness
A sweet woman
Walks with scarves
Of contemplation
And speaks rythmically
Of all things,
Feeding pigs
The nature of duality.

Indoors
The same hearts
Are stolen by the same
Song
From a generation ago
And they sing along.

The fog is a warm
Curtain now
And the world is annuled
And the thoughts
Are white
And opaque.
The sun
Is stretching its hands
Horizontally
From the east
And
Alighting upon the
Patchwork leaves
Turning green.
O, who could ever
Gaze his fill?

Indoors
The same hearts are
Stolen
By the
Same
Song
From a generation
Ago
And they sing along.

The lethargic sun
Looks upon his arc
And laughs
"How do i do this everyday?"
He shrugs
And begins climbing.
The moon is
Behind my back,
Snoring.
Far to my left
Comes a human eye
That sees me
I stand and begin
The day's activities.

Indoors
The same
Hearts
Are
Stolen
By the
Same
Song
From a
Generation
Ago
And they
Sing
Along.

Current Wings: Dirty like my hair