~shadowofsun

holy lips have kissed my skin.
sitting far off from the hills and the families,
the distant haze of blue and smog makes the week far clearer.
radio towers far away bristle like raised hairs,
fearful of the next bit of news,
the next bombing that will take a family sailing kites
just like these below the steppes.
the wisp of squirell tails shiver behind trees.
bicycles parked neatly on lawns are all that is left of the daytime games, lonely horses unsaddled casting shadows longer than their beaten lives.
children have long since stopped taking their seats
from their bikes.
they have no sense of what tomorow will be. no knowledge of what used to be. life for them has become the dandelion,
seeds taken briskly by breeze.
this world no longer waits for black clouds.
It expects them.

4-11-08