Do you see the wind
as it blows past the trees?
Can you feel the tears
when you fall to your knees?
Wash the sleep away from my eyes
For you I would
give a Dakota Sunrise.
I never,
I never let on
that the mandolin broke
at the end of our
song.
Let's leave this museum now
our guide won't slow down
and trip by
the night
so we'll never know why,
this Buddha we chose
has been run out
of town.
Drifting,
drift with the tide
Winter in the wind
past October's orange
sky.
When summer returns
will we feel us again?
We'll raise spirits from
visions
work blisters on souls,
and watch eyes dulled by wrinkles
fall
blind behind sin.
Do you see the wind
as it blows through the trees?
Can you taste the
tears
as I fall to my knees?
Wash the sleep away from my eyes,
for I offer
to you
a Dakota Sunrise.
T. S. Mapes
copyright 1992