Doll Of The Brook.

the lighting my muse; the thunder gave birth to dawn

i traced myself back here

-- just to see the sky unravel in the morning. < sunrise? surprise? who knows. >

the undergrowth shrivels and the seeds scatter

although the leaves are no longer the ones i know

i'm back here to dig up a graveyard

of my memories. long gone, long past, long, long, long.

many march’s ago i came across a brook shaded from the blazing sun

beyond the fence, as rickety as it was, there lay a raggedy doll -- doll of the brook.

now breathing?

it questioned me, “must you be so inquisitive?”

the questions were asked and the secrets swapped

soon the green leaves gave way to the blood-red;

the thunder like the claps of an unseen audience

freezing draughts swept our skirts, but we were too busy

sweeping each other off our feet to notice.

we were too busy

to see where we were dancing off to, arm in arm, hand in hand

it was decided. we were star-crossed companions.

and like all those who were star-crossed, we were not favored by the stars.

although i never knew what stopped us from waltzing off to them. off to the stars, that is.