Thursday, July 03, 2014

956

Float away, the rain-sea that is also the sky.       
Untethered to anything.
Shuffled by wind.                                           
Still, it sinks.

 Lower and lower with the pull of the million eyes that look up and hope.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Alternate endings, depending on the mood:

...still it stinks
or
...still it sings

473 of 534

Papa was discharged today and none of us were prepared for it. He is still so weak but we are on the right path of treatment, it seems. But ...