why does the river bed seem so inviting instead
of my bed with blankets sprawled around.
why can't the image leave my head of happiness
which i have not yet found.
clocks tick round and i walk yet
beneath the eaves of spring for more
and my hunger is not satisfied yet.
i waste the time watching
talking, but where is a hope?
sunlight waves through the trees hoping
to find a back to warm. my back shivers with delight
and i walk back inside. sounds surround me,
and i kneel, and i am quiet.