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Cold Feet

Cold Feet

domestic days of driving rain / craft the voyage on a whim – oh wait

he thinks there’s nothing to it / all of it done so effortlessly

except for between dawn and dusk / it’s all a blur of miscellany

scraping leftovers and other unmentionables / entertaining the troops in a four room shack

the man is now a manageable / yearns for the chance at planting tracks

but what of what has come to pass / and all the been-there’s and done-that’s

the past is gone, not all for nought / think of all the food for thought

if you live there you’ll get left behind / wondering why all things pass you by

climbing higher to unwind / depleted energy levels oh-me-oh-my

i dream of flying on the back of a giant albatross / communicating with the sun

my heart fills with something i don’t know the word for / is it bliss?  ecstasy?   jubilation?   gratification?  rapture?  nirvana?

or is it love? / i only know what it isn’t

back on earth / cold feet stomping

planting tracks / warm heart searching

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