Not clocks, not stones
The rocks and tops of other
Markers, meaning more
Than the calendar, I ask
For a moment, just a respite from
The notes and scraps of papers reminding
Pockets filled with filler
A time full and sounding of
Others clocks
Wipe them away
Come with me
Take my hand
It will be
A new year.
The rocks and tops of other
Markers, meaning more
Than the calendar, I ask
For a moment, just a respite from
The notes and scraps of papers reminding
Pockets filled with filler
A time full and sounding of
Others clocks
Wipe them away
Come with me
Take my hand
It will be
A new year.
No comments:
Post a Comment