Sleepless Sun has yet to yawn earlier and earlier with presumptuous air medleys. Swift, swallow from perch, owl, predator dead by day and essential duties flown on wing and whistle. The crow is among with rafters of cry, it does not preside in the chirp, chirp jungle. Love songs or names they know every tune and the farm rascals see a chance, beak species. Sun conductor is radiant it brings joy. Or toil. Worm sucking hunting dry tongue without a drop of soul to enjoy. Not Brandy, not drunk like the birds, a mind of thought to worry, not like a bird, or the sun, keen. Not like me to be awake just after the death of night, lost owl, limbo duty and maybe the birds make sense.
Posted on: Sat, 30 Aug 2014 19:01:51 +0000
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