an eight-word poem
a ten sentence fool
have come together
on the bagpipes that rule
the rising of the glistering sun
the turning of waves
the archetype of freedom
the carpenter who waits
through the looked doors of the garden of Eden
I hear them speak
they hide behind wallflowers
they cry as they peek
through a dark door
through a dark field
through the rhythms
that tremble as they speak
they’re hiding in rivers
they’re hiding nowhere
they sing in the sunshine
they’re singing everywhere
they’re speaking of freedom
as I watch them goodbye
through an ancient looking glass
I see their thought leaders lie
I’ll start crying tonight,
as soon as we speak
wrong is the poet
gently the thief
About the Creator
Julia Heussler
Likes to make the world laugh but prefers cries, unmistakenly dyslexic, hasn't drawn a perfect circle yet
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