Friday, December 23, 2011

Rusty cowgirl

Old dusty road
Babbling bubbling inner dialogue  crooked spine
 soul on fire
True grit
Trekking through the rows of houses 
Children, lovers, mamas n papas
All gathered around together
Laughing, cooking 
Sayin grace,
 looking at family pictures 
 building stories
Nostalgia  in a thick, dreamy haze fills my brain 
as I walk alone
been here before
The fiery maple leaves 
crest in waves 
 perfect wrought iron fence
 protects a brightly lit house 
 blinking red and gold lights 
 electric candy 
 this time of year
 so lonesome 
I could cry
 the well's run dry 
I was an ocean
Always a cowgirl
Don't fence me in 
and I will be a river

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