set us free; we toss lines
out to the nearest buoy
on choppy saline waters--
for shelter from the incoming storm
we act the part of saviour,
while sitting pretty, dressed to the nines
in designer jeans; it's the inner
apple core that screams-spit out
the seeds, and savour the sweet
flesh, around the core---by your feet
the walk along the river
proved to be a hike
into another time frame;
we set together double hung ones
flown in from sicily--with only
soft tissue paper separating us
the truth will set us free--
that is true....
now, will someone please stir this stew-
i need to get back to the keys, in time
for evans, coltrane, debussy
are dining on crow--this crazy nocturne in c
photo and poem by kate lamberg~all rights reserved. (c)
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