Please can we walk and talk a while? I need
guidance, a solemn conversation. Give
me hope, some light to follow, let me feed
my tender soul with good reasons to live.
It's not that I have no reason, it's just
that all of mine are bad. I base my life
on little things, a wheelbarrow's rainy rust,
the chickens, plums, all balanced on a knife.
The edge is thin and razor sharp. I fear
to see them fall - my colors sink in mud
and filth, my chickens white, the barrow near
and red, these images befuddled.
Please can we walk and talk awhile? I long
for meaning deeper than within some song.
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