Sunday, 5 February 2012

only air now

sharing a pillow just to hear
her breath
only air now

no more songs

words so rare

the air had been full of songs
upon our rising
we knew the world
was still turning
happy, sad, scared  song  song  song
the thread of our youth

radio blaring
washer singing
bread rising
floors shining
soup sizzling
cold nights
summer heat
songs just filled our ears