Climbing Higher
By Abilene
Photographs with cracks & lines Etched into the emulsion A work of art is born before me I’m thinking with fluid motion My thoughts find Mario Giacomelli Sitting on a wooden bench Old and lost somewhere in Italy Resting on a cliff Above the trees of this town Diggin’ the herb, feeling fine My thoughts run out of room It’s funny how the simple people sleep Every single one of us Lying in bed, swishing in dreams I can hear the granite growling I pretend a lion sits there Snarling at the back of my throat I wait, trusting in truth Climbing up, to be in the high Into it I’m climbing up Forever climbing higher Written December 5th, 2001 © on Dec 05 2001 01:21 AM PST 17 • 0 • 13
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"Photographs with cracks & lines..."