Stoned,
lain beneath weep of willow,
bosomed
in niche of nature's pillow
intoxicated,
inhaling life's ferment
vineyards,
saturate dreams with scent
wandered,
lost beyond midnight's edge
agape,
phantoms infiltrate the head
banished,
from asphalt and high-rise,
exiled,
autumn hues, now my disguise
nestled,
beside roots, as if mother's feet
seasons,
change, like thieves, stealing heat
content,
worlds away from man and his laws,
peacefully,
I dream, with no one judging my flaws
Adding your comment:
