Sunday It was dark No one came out to play Monday...
I am sitting solemn Listening long To your memory I see...
His pride A youthful tongue of Fire agate His jealousy A...
Today The cemetery Claimed three The siren I’ve heard only Once...
She sits Faded green velvet chair He stares Through smoke filled...
My body often speaks about wanting You In strange ways it...
The passing days are glorious centuries This country permeates my boundless...
A silver twist of the tongue And I am yours Half...
Just like ripe fruit My dogwood flower fell Was snatched up...
Fingers I use to write Crawl over the words Your fingers...