There on the threshold below to the garden
|
In front of the rest of the city that ends at the
|
Banks of the river and stretches back to me and
|
Holds a square patch of backyard where I¡¯m looking at
|
Bunches of children, some fixed at their parents,
|
Take colorful strings draped cross branches of lemon and
|
Orange emit from the ends of it seem like
|
A galaxy cupped in a leafy red canopy
|
|
(And I feel the breezes blow, pushing storms on my arms,
|
I'm out on the tips of spires, you can stare into the sea)
|
|
-----------------
|
Tantrum Barb
|
Animal Collective |