Dreams, inconsistent angel things.
Horses bred with star-laced wings.
But it's so hard to make them fly, fly, fly.
These wings beat the night sky 'bove the town.
~From "We Have Forgotten" by Sixpence None the Richer. They can make melancholy sound so good.
1 comment:
This cement highway
I knew it as a dirt road
Born of a meadow....
Thank you Sharon FottaAnderson for the above 3 lines.
I once lived in those meaddows.
Or so I told myself.
Till the passing trucks woke me up. Rude...
GGB
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