Jan 19, 2007

 
 
 


how easy it all is to openfire
across the counter as the bartender
makes ready to go minutes from home
as snow decides between calm or storm
or cold and the horses in their stables
await to be fed patient as they are unable
to do more than browse for themselves
in the sun with all its shades that merry well
to the grave as it thunders of distaste
and love that was hated in its glorious chase
of the moon and unlit desiderata