Finally…

Sept 2006 053

she nourished that patch

with those flammable tears,

from jagged tears

and all that bares,

streaming arrears

the chanting of years’

mourning.

 

 

She returned in the blink of a decade,

no warning,

taken aback

by perpetual dawning

of the quiet hymn

of the rose.

 

(A lovely musical interlude by a lovely man).

“A Storm Was Coming But I Didn’t Feel Nothing”

I was going to write a poem for this, but it slays me, and the words didn’t come. I think it stands so much on its own. Maybe another time. Plus, Heath is one heck of a nice guy. But you can hear that.

And gosh, if you want a little more killing me softly, have a listen to this…my favourite of his I think.