Nightingales
I
see
you there
beyond the
curtains drawn upon
the driveway we avoid with eyes
of jaded green that beckon me waiting there out in
the cold and how I fear the time you'll stay out there with psychedelic strawberries skewed.
Now you speak of breaking free from sound energy bound
by the pouring rain in Penny
Lane and our blood pact
made on that
hallowed
ground
state.
