The Books – An Owl With Knees
from Lost and Safe (2005) /pickybubblepsychpop/
“Eat rye straw
Leave, withdraw
Drink ink tea
Stay with me
Fame stay shy
By way of why
Wait, lie low
Old ones’ odd odes
Read. Read on
Read, read on
Breathe, be calm
You’re gone, gone on”
The air’s cold or warm. Maybe somewhere in between. The winter grey bare branches arch from trees to prick at the pale sky. Summer’s flowers bloom and bloomed, red and yellow, gold and black. Wherever, whenever and however it is, a wind blows. Delicate or harsh and firm. A wind blows from east and west. Carrying the gentle colours of sunset, the eer of a full moon, the plaintive smile of sunrise, the forceful warmth of noon. A wind blows them all to your open door. You’re locked in a dark basement or packed onto a stuffy tedium with wheels. Maybe ornery acquaintances and workload have declared an alliance and a full-scale assault. Open your door. A wind will find you.
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