When the hills and
trees
Have lost one dimension,
Lying, black ink spots,
on a
Purple paper sky,
I will be driving
like wildfire
Toward that unspace,
Dreaming about love
and life.
When I have been flattened
To a shadow barely
there,
Lying, speechless,
nearly beyond
Hope; in every kind
of twilight,
I will push that motor
over
One more major grade,
Coasting downhill
on a smile.
@ 1996-2002 Barbara Bales all
rights reserved
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