it is not in the I
it is not in the I
you chose to say good bye
it is not in a time
allotted by the heaving sea
seamen search and travel
and in the end
there can only be one
verified Indian at the table
I see dogs being closer
to the love I know
than me and you traveling
for the sake of it
night is a sweet mistress
and I am unfaithful
burrowing and clinging
to a pale rabbit moon
see me not then
in the little house
clinging to the old cliff
shifting paper shifting
sea salt singing is
in the western wind
wayward is the name of he
I walk to the end
ceremonial walks the day
where continuity breaks
all conventions
to the sound of more waves
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2015-05-25 at 23:07
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Wumbulu |
Jamsbo Rockda |
Texts |
by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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