The light builds a tree-house and erases the leaves
Those gossamer scrawls of ink that skimmed the sky
Now fall on the road like crumpled coats and cloaks
Dark, deep, deep and dark, the shadows that litter
The road that leads to home.
The road that leads away from home
Sunshine falls on the road in a dappled coat of light
A starched blue sky, uniform with a badge of leaves
Green, deep green that chase the crayon swirls at sunset
In those gossamer weaves of light, darkness builds a dream at night
When I speak, I speak of memory.