I like to call you my wild horse
And feed you silver sage
I'd like to paint my poems with
Desert tongued clay across your back
And ride you savagely as the sweet and southern wind
Through a green and wild Kentucky
I'd like to make you my secret sun
Blazing dark and red in the orchards
And I would steal away to watch the way
Your silver belly bends and bows beneath me
I'd make you my wings in the foothills of Montana
My lover in the oceans of the world
I'd make you my calico children
And scatter you across my green memories of home
I'd be your hungry valley
And sow your golden fields of wheat in my womb
No comments:
Post a Comment