Red bird
on a barbed-wire
fence
Rainclouds hanging
out to
dry
A dancing skeleton,
a tree
Sparrows drinking
dead mouse
tea,
Reading
a literature of feathers
Under a clear gray
sky
At the bottom
of the
sea,
Where there is
no
Where to
fly
9.12.26
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I am a songwriter and bandleader who travels the world in search of the golden ticket. https://nathan-payne.wixsite.com/home
Replacing my blog at http://pablosmoglives.wordpress.com
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