Walk a thin line, a fence between fields?
One gate or the other,
One place or another.
I could stay, you know.
I could give in to that urge to escape
Start over, all new, all in again.
Just let it all go.
Hold me here, hold me down, I keep walking my line,
Gaze fixed firmly on the horizon.
1 comment:
I pause here for a moment, a short escape from the agenda of meaningless toils that await me. I drink in your words. I taste the oak, the berries, the fruit, then swallow the delicious blend to cleanse my palate. The strings that bind our lives are sinewy and taut. On these rare occasions I gently strum them with the back of a finger like the strings of an old guitar. The music there is high and sweet.
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