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Description
With the moon tip toeing around us
Our story wasn’t epic or riddled with heartbreaks
Our rain walks on blurred streets were never a steady heartbeat
In our hunt for an ancient two-story house with walls wrapped in fern
And a forest full of critters as a back yard.
We held hands and lamented on old shadows
In steps one after another
Stories are told in notes of a bird song.
I would try to tell an epic involving sparrows of my balcony
spanning millennia
And sometimes your smiling eye would stop me mid-sentence
Mostly on Mondays
Thank you for May
Then thank you for May again
And June and thereafter.
People are like old yellow newspaper
Full of old memories and bad news
Sometimes a diary of unfinished poems
We wither and fade and die like stars in the sky
Even if you don’t look for me behind a dying star
Or in a black hole hiding in our backyard
Know this I will be close enough to hold you

Description
With the moon tip toeing around us
Our story wasn’t epic or riddled with heartbreaks
Our rain walks on blurred streets were never a steady heartbeat
In our hunt for an ancient two-story house with walls wrapped in fern
And a forest full of critters as a back yard.
We held hands and lamented on old shadows
In steps one after another
Stories are told in notes of a bird song.
I would try to tell an epic involving sparrows of my balcony
spanning millennia
And sometimes your smiling eye would stop me mid-sentence
Mostly on Mondays
Thank you for May
Then thank you for May again
And June and thereafter.
People are like old yellow newspaper
Full of old memories and bad news
Sometimes a diary of unfinished poems
We wither and fade and die like stars in the sky
Even if you don’t look for me behind a dying star
Or in a black hole hiding in our backyard
Know this I will be close enough to hold you