Friday, May 29, 2015

Up through the boot


Up through the boot the grass finds its way
Up on the knoll past the root of the tree
Up to the shin and up to the knee

sure as I lie here, waiting for thee

And all the bright clouds
And all the gray gulls
And all the hands held

still matter to me



2 comments:

Jonathan Chant said...

And to me. Beautifully said, William.

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Jonathan.