Serpent in
and serpent out.
My thickness will see,
what it's about.

Passes over
and passes under.
My drive will find,
the cement to bind.

Lookers looking
and waiters waiting.
My shadow unexpected,
yesterday least connected.

The trades go out
and protection is slipped.
My angel wings are ready for flying,
it is certain that I am tired of buying.

Celebration days come
and tree gatherings go.
My what an incorrect lie,
when I say I am going to die.

Grave diggers dig
and mourners come.
She is here not,
as they grant my last plot.


© 2004 David Greg Harth
04.02.12.22:32@LIRRNYC->StnyBrkLI