A Date
By The Walrus
Wheel gripped firmly in white knukled hand, right foot set down meeting floor, swifter than stallions races cross the land, yet clock takes twice time to creep quarter round. Arriving then he taps and waits, and door pulled back without a sound, smile flashing, perfume smothers and blinds. Warm lips caress "Good Night" on steps, glancing up to sky he finds, the moon, the stars, the night, where last he looked was only light. Written February 20th, 1968 © on Dec 30 2001 04:43 AM PST 0 • 8
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"Wheel gripped firmly in white knukled hand,..."