A blue sky's full of
possibilities, of four winds,
or is it eight? Sunlight
fragile as daffodils.
The flinty earth lies down
among its oceans, parched
and patchwork as if soil
were just a quilt
of comfort.
Sing me how
a silken bulb
may be.
A blue sky's full of
possibilities, of four winds,
or is it eight? Sunlight
fragile as daffodils.
The flinty earth lies down
among its oceans, parched
and patchwork as if soil
were just a quilt
of comfort.
Sing me how
a silken bulb
may be.
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