Sunday Reverie
There are things that drift but on that Sunday's light you stayed in sight even when the coffee gets cold I found you down's sitting around through the buzzling crowd, it's your voice I'm trying to find to turn the turret down for what's done swirls and sweeps the river flows, but you filled the seat forgotten agony with your sweet hello like growing hues that could win the war but I'm terrified I'd burn you black and white.










