I climbed, dizzier still
into a love where crowds stood
with pencils in their hands
and the sounds of their voices
like melodies.
When I saw Joni Mitchell
I cried wet tears that wouldn't stop
and she collected them
in the pages of a book
like each tear was a religion
that could be followed
to divinity.
At least thats what she said
as yellow leaves fell from trees
that hissed as winds blew.
No comments:
Post a Comment