I will be on the lawn, dancing With the apple trees and barberries And patchy, too long grasses And wildflowers and weeds And the skeletons I have set free When they come for me I will wear my Sunday best Snapdragons behind my ears Fireflies in my eyes
Not enough good poetry on our side of the great Substack divide.
Sing every chance you get to magnify the sounds of this beautiful process of creation, thank you. The naysayers, the deaf they are so temporary but necessary in the plan. IDK, I continue to sing.
What do we say to the god of death?
- not today.
This is beautiful! And I'm happy to see Guttermouth giving her approval, although I'm six months late to the party.
Beautiful- thank you!!