Solo

I hate the way the sunshine cripples the clouds at sunset and birdlike shadows sully the grass Everything shaken till walls turn ground and memories tinkle from mind pockets as loose change that line that underside of cloud tears the shroud till faint tinkles fill my soul with crashing I can feel those hands dirty hands touching my heart to breaking I would have thrown it all away to paint the world clean would tear it to pieces to forget what mere clouds mere shadows touch on the man on the street singing his swan song. shades of purple black scouring his soul clean his hands clean as the gutter welcomed him down home to heaven Written March 4th, 2002 © on Mar 03 2002 04:06 PM PST   18 • 0 • 9