They Come

by Birdie


They come
Where shall I go?
Not knowing North from South
Or East from West
River's dried
Decisions numb
No time for farewells
Rings circles hazy moon
The night too is hiding
Cold pellets of hard rain
Pounding down ontop and
Around my barefeet
Perhaps the rivers will rise
For now they come
Where shall I go?
Not knowing North from South
Or East from West

They Come by Birdie

© Copyright 2003. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.



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