The lonliness of no cars littering the pathway
The melancholy in the sound of birds
The green is good And clean is god
But isn’t the prospect of ascetic spirit sad?
In a land w/o light
In a land of drudged might
Why wrong seems so right
And end so near in sight
Palms get jittery
And mind as cluttered as the room
From Surefoot to Backfoot, one step at a time
While he, she and they slowly mime
Saw bliss upclose,
It chilled my spine
Probably I’m too wary
Probably their vision of life is too awry?
Deep in the water, these questions I bury!