I was born in a summer storm
|
grass was cold but the sky was warm
|
they lay me down in the mossy fields
|
where the crows kill with tender speed
|
|
sun burned off the lonely clouds
|
and warmed my face, the roots in the ground
|
they washed me off in a shallow stream
|
where sand dunes line the beach
|
|
I grew up on that moody land
|
I understood the tension all around
|
between me and you and dad
|
how a sun burn goes cold and damp
|
|
how we hovered all in between
|
slight sliver where life can begin,
|
between oxygen and temperature
|
or the force fields of boy and girl
|
|
I was born in a summer storm
|
grass was cold but the sky was warm
|
and so I hover now in between
|
the slight sliver where life can breathe
|
|
submariners crashed my sleep
|
I heard about it on the bbc
|
I can hear as they tap on the steel
|
of a hull downed in the melting sea
|
|
-----------------
|
Gainesville, Fla
|
| John Vanderslice |
