Sing a song of Christmas
Stick your penny in with mine
We'll sing for all we haven't done
For which we did not die
Rainbow on ruins yet to fall
Gold raindrops from the sky
Mother's blessing as a curse
Before we wonder why
You've gone again
Not to return
At least in this soft shape
See you in another time
Another startled scape
I'll know you with a haunted look
Your laughter dry and thin
Your eyes like worlds that found themselves
At the dusk day could not bring
(Red in them somehow reflected in the black)
Political Economy
14 years ago
No comments:
Post a Comment