Crossover Empire
You there, I see you hundred times over When I lapse into my colloquialisms I hear you make you come, call, answer, something in the grass, the sky, the stretch, the grand exodus of winter light at dusk, You there, I hear you, coming up the flagstones and broken hinge, pulling moving as to cool, cool air, rush as it were, I see you inside and out, pulling up dandelions by the roots, for hours in the sun, sweating into the earth, only to raise them to your lips and blow their seeds back into the wind, into the fresh-tilled soil. sept 21 99