Glory.
Deep under the autumn sky
I raised my head
to take a look,
seeing if you were there
or whether the sounds
in my head;
were just echoes
of a life past
and memories fleeced.
I saw tall walls
green and hazy
like a fortress which I could
never enter;
for the sins I've committed
are grave.
A dead wallaby lay ahead,
eyes facing the sun,
I wonder where his heart
faced.
The setting sun blazed and bristled
as the light refused to die;
so that I could see
the lone farmhouse
where your thoughts and mine
mixed in the night sky;
and a woollen quilt
of dreams nourished us.
I sat down on the road,
where roadkill was my friend.
Realised I missed you badly
and as the trucks
raced past me; like
a dove fleeing Israel,
your face shone
and you smiled.
I flew.
