Running Out
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009

 

If the birds chirp
It seems I run out of words
So let them pirch up in them branches
And sing for me
And let their chirps perk
My interest in trees
Let the treebark heal
The sunlight dusk would leave
In my momentum
In my fictionary quarell
Let them worry for me
The storm is riding forward
Through the floors of our house
From the north to the south
They run out of rain
As I run out of names
Here we go again
Running out