this is how i think of you:

through the brown crust of bark
the billion billion milky stars
the endless black
of last night

the sound of snowflakes
exploding with quiet dignity
on the summer cracked pavement

and brown grass
dead and forgotten
beneath angelic white
and memories of springtime's impending green


through the brown crust of bark
the billion billion milky stars
the endless black
of last night

the sound of snowflakes
explodes with quiet dignity
on the summer cracked pavement

a hush-footed muffle of brown grass
(long dead and softly forgotten)
beneath tufts of cold wet angelic white
and memories of springtime's impending green

through an ache of the brown crust of oak bark
the billion billion milky stars titillating wishes
the endless velvet black curtain
of every last winter's night

the rumpled sounds of squirrels and snowflakes
explode with raucous quiet dignity
on the vestiges of summer cracked pavement

a hush-footed muffle of brown grass
(long dead and softly forgotten)
beneath tufts of cold wet angelic white
and memories of springtime's impending green

through an belligerant ache of the brown crust of oak bark
reaching fingers praying for new leaves

the billion billion milky stars titillating wishes
the endless soak of tear drops over the velvet black curtain
of every last winter's night

the rumpled sounds of hungry squirrels and perfect snowflakes
explode with raucous quiet dignity
on the vestiges of blistering summer cracked pavement

a hush-footed muffle of brown grass

(long dead and softly forgotten where grasshoppers leapt
months ago in tribute to sunburns and the songs of crickets)

beneath tufts of cold wet angelic white
and memories of springtime's impending green

through belligerant ache -- winter's call
despair, grief, sadness -- blazing blindness
amidst the earthy brown crust of oak bark
reaching fingers praying for new leaves

the best light of a billion billion milky stars titillating wishes
the endless soak of tear drops over the velvet black curtain
of every last winter's night

the rumpled sounds of hungry squirrels and perfect snowflakes
explode with raucous quiet dignity
on the vestiges of blistering summer cracked pavement

a hush-footed muffle of brown grass

(long dead and softly forgotten where grasshoppers leapt
months ago in tribute to sunburns and the songs of crickets)

beneath tufts of cold wet angelic white
and memories of springtime's impending green