-THE BLUE HOUSE-
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
Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.
Monday, October 1, 2007
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