| Tightly Sighed The searching ivy creeps over the tracks of our palms, dreams search wide open nights for dawns and winter and at the end of the grove a love is dissolving, we are trysted, turned, laden flailing, we fall into crevices, stuffed with continental balms, birds search the craggy hills for nooks of serenity, wings folded, tightly sighed through the gates of our tomorrows, the brilliance of the sun is loud resurrecting our silences, ever smiling upon the beaten-path circlet, love swelling where it falls. shalome � 2004 |