Saturday, September 07, 2013

The Well Used Heart

One small brush with a stranger, at the magic edge of idleness.
One little push at the top of the curve; there's no turning back.


Traveling the avenue of thought only to lose my answer.
Stains of intrigue stamped upon my passport.
Approaching the borders without dimension. 
Where is my country?
Only a heart full of emptiness can return home.




Shepherd's Farm Catawba Valley VA- 2012
 



This weeks words: pay, stains, center, bell, dimension, intrigue,magic, only, used, avenue, answer, change