Surprising what the seaons throw up - from deep in the subconscious 1960's
South Star
The leaves are falling on Griffith AvenueThey lie thereInches deep along the PavementJust cryingTo be walked through.
I have no mind for shuffling in themAny more.Besides, I’m not even sureIf they would welcome me.They seem to wait for you.
I watch the stars.Finding The PloughI trace the North StarThen turning from it, face towards youEven if you never see me.
Someday, I pray,I’ll find a South Star.And then, I’ll never have to turn my back againTo find you.
The leaves are falling on Griffith AvenueThey lie thereInches deep along the PavementJust cryingTo be walked through.
I have no mind for shuffling in themAny more.Besides, I’m not even sureIf they would welcome me.They seem to wait for you.
I watch the stars.Finding The PloughI trace the North StarThen turning from it, face towards youEven if you never see me.
Someday, I pray,I’ll find a South Star.And then, I’ll never have to turn my back againTo find you.
No comments have been added yet.
