Creeks are the unsteady footprints of rain, thoughts
wandering into rivers, and these,
these are long throats, choked and epileptic.
And, at last, lakes, what they see is up there, like the dead,
forever living in the past.
Creeks are the unsteady footprints of rain, thoughts
wandering into rivers, and these,
these are long throats, choked and epileptic.
And, at last, lakes, what they see is up there, like the dead,
forever living in the past.
