We grew with the grass picked petals to dream
Crushed them up and replanted as a heaven to be
Sold the garden at a penny a seed
Rough shod hymns on the perimeter penning the scene
With the reverence it needs we set out our brief
Peppered with rhetoric our debtors believed
Until it bled on the sheets like spilled wine
On a silk tie now we wait until the field dries
So we can till lines and wait for the harvest to come
Let the rainfall become another part of my tongue

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.