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the man knows the ledges thick in his blood since birth september month when the southwest wind begins to speak another tongue we put ourselves on the line courage i went away a week the land of enchantment called me things changed the island's emptied out no more activities summer people gone out here i come home to myself rocking on a deep ocean swell i witness a deer caravan at the northeastern tip of jewell's slowly weaving through a rocky passage all lit by early morning sun on the water we are alive like no other place skating on thin ice so close to an edge it's the island and what's beyond the island against any kind of common sense we crave it surrendering day after day no longer makers of our own fates we serve some other mistress we cannot name |
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| copyright © 2001-2006 by Kat Farrin | ||
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