my white room


i never saw a moor—
i never saw the sea—
yet know i how the heather looks
and what a billow be.

e.d.



9/26/12


wild rice in the morning
and whole day in silence
when phone rings i start 
talking haltingly weakly
like those spines of unfolded 
napkin













on i's black pages













if i needed you 
would you come to me 
would you come to me 
for to ease my pain 
if you needed me 
i would come to you 
i would swim the seas 
for to ease your pain 

brad ashbey

2 comments:

  1. you're like my father. he asks me these days to make him rice for breakfast.

    nice song.

    ReplyDelete

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