||1. jethro tull şarkısı|
hair stands high on the cat's back like
a ridge of threatening hills.
sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl -
their tails hanging low.
and young children falter in their games
at the altar of life's hide-and-seek
between tall pillars, where sunday-night killers
in grey raincoats peek.
misty colours unfold in a backcloth cold -
fine tapestry of silk
i draw around me like a cloak
and glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled -
brown and gold they fly
through the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
i'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
blown through the eye of the hurricane
down to the stones where old ghosts play.
| zerya · #1281905 · 18 Kasım 2006 06:49:27 |