The Trouble With You
Moss, Grass crackle in hand.
Leaf, Root, Flower, Fruit, orders Garden.
“The trouble with you,” she says—
& I’m a ladder left leaning on a Tree.
Leaf, Root, Flower, Fruit, orders Garden.
Frost puts to slumber, sleep…
& I’m a ladder left leaning on a Tree.
Put on some Music & we’ll pretend
Frost puts to slumber, sleep…
Snow Berry stars in an empty Wood.
Put on some Music & we’ll pretend
Blood-stained box the Turkey rode in.
Snow Berry stars in an empty Wood.
I can’t look you in the eye, just how we are
Blood-stained box the Turkey rode in.
Nothing older or more terrible—
I can’t look you in the eye, just how we are
Last Leaves, yellow mobiles, smile, smile
Nothing older or more terrible—
Put on some Music & we’ll pretend—
Last Leaves, yellow mobiles, smile, smile
Moss & Grass crackle in hand.
Put on some Music & we’ll pretend—
“The trouble with you,” she says—