Sign up now for a
Free Email Account &
your own Online
Writing Portfolio!
Username:
Password:  
Support This Author

Sponsored Items

Click Here To Bid  

Read a Newbie
Badges
Cheerleading
Presented To:
R.H.N

Testimonials
Tell a Friend
Know someone who'd
like this page?

Email Address:

Optional Comment:

Who's Online?
Members: 307    
Guests: 2239    

   
Total Online Now: 2546    
Writing.Com Time

Thursday
February 23, 2012
9:13am EST


  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Spiritual >> ID #1716716  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
dimensions
maybe it's just me
Rated:
E
by
Avg Rating: (1)

                   the sky
                   was growing
                   dark
                   autumn shortened by the cold
                   someone knew
                   the way
                   but couldn't make it
                   in the dark
                   I knew just where to turn
                   how many trees
                   how many bumps
                   of missing road
                   had me
                   turned around
                   stars we left unwished
                   (another night)
                   were glad
                    to shine the way
                   were waiting
                   when I found
                   the house
                   wrapped in vine
                   and washed with light
                   fanned as flame to wing
                   flickering visions
                   to glitter swam
                   a slope of black
                   against a darker night
                   fireflies (thousands)
                   how could I not have seen
                   another presence here
                   I swear
                   the air is easier
                   and music (something)
                   no it's not imagination
                   though I know
                   it could be enough
                   might trick me into
                   dancing
                   tho I don't know the song
                   is one I've heard
                   one we used
                   to love
                   played over and over
                   a spinning dream pressed
                   in plastic (starts again)
                   he couldn't play
                   but no one really cared
                   and now they've changed
                   the place
                   til no one knows (to know)
                   he'd be humbled
                   by the way
                   they've made magic
                   of his sound
                   assuming
                   it's not me
                   (a melody trapped inside)
                   everyone is hushed
                   the music softer
                   they look at me
                   and again (I wonder)
                   was I ever here
                   are they only waiting
                   me to dance




© Copyright 2010 Tornado Day (UN: tornadoday at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Tornado Day has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log In To Leave Feedback
Username:
Password:
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!

All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!