Trees Growing From Cliff Faces
Ben Stivers
3/8/07
Trees Growing From Cliff Faces
See me going up the path,
You tried your best to take my hand
Like toy cars, on a track.
You tried your best,
To guide me back.
Watching ocean swells.
This bluff is nothing more than air.
I dove for miles
With nothing there.
Mourn for me,
And I will call for you.
We can trace a line,
A rope, a spindle of silk.
I will comfort you,
As your eyes close,
Mine will too.
|