Sencha and The Boss

Sencha and The Boss aren't companions,
First thing in morning, when sun glows
Through grey dawn cover. He speaks
Of faith, I try not to snicker. Thinking about
Trading summer colors for autumn's rust & decay.
He sings about pushin' it till it's understood
And these badlands start treating us good.
So I pick up the quill and pot of ink,
On rough paper this landscape will be redrawn.

September 19, 2012

matin

the warming day
momentarily delayed
by cool air, scent of water