Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Dusk

feet on the dirt path
the coin's inside the tree 
the treasure's at your feet 
eleven years of waiting
(surely it's forgotten me)
tunnels through the treeline
hopping over fences
silver buttons, gold ribbons
walnuts to warpaint, streaked on our faces
running 'til dusk settles

life is a haze
true and false and everything between
rainwater runs and blurs memories
like new binoculars and stranger conversation
i'm on the wrong side of the fence
most things don't make sense 
i'll never trust again
 "but i was young" that's my defense


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