i lie in the grass
, and doze, and dream
of things of past, of things forseen
of things of peace, of things of pain.
i sleep in the sun
Slowly the shadows cool do creep
across my foot, across my hand,
and i am called to waking-land
i stir, and shift, and wake.
i slowly sit, awash in pain,
in turbulance that wracks my brain
i slowly sit, and see
a hand, a foot, an arm, a knee,
imprint of that which is me
in the grass, a human form
...where there should be two.
i miss you...