Within
the deluge of a dream
we walked alongside,
alone.
A soft walk
is all she sang
as I started
and skidded
half-dancedly
through the rain.
Come wander beyond
the heavy lidded
eyes you own,
beyond the choices
you'll make that
are yours to
roam.
Come slither
or skip.
The path is not
one of place
or marker.
Only rain
makes a mind
richer,
or darker.
So you see
passing
signs are not signs
at all;
Your life is floating beside you
between seasons winter,
fall.
So
the path is forged
by the dance
you pick?
Well,
a walk becomes a dance
on roads so slick.
-J.L.
-J.L.
