I follow you for a while

I follow you for a while
Through the breaking glaciers
Where the wind lights fires
I see you in red volcanic glow

I follow you for a while
Thinking you are my mother
I am not recognised alas
Yet I care not whose face you have

I follow you for a while
Into the low plains stretched like hammocks
In the memory songs of rare birds
I fly ahead of the air rifles bullets

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances. View all posts by blackbird212012