Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Blue House - by an anonymous friend


Little blue house

On a green hill

Wrapped in grey clouds

That refuse to rain

In the valley below

Where the lake bed

Lies desiccated, sucked dry

By a magnetic force

On the flipside of the world

The lake is full

Little blue house

Anchor me against

This magnetic pull

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