Building up around me,
are waves of response,
orbiting in pattern.

You know, it goes
on slow in tow,
following me home.

So I'll launch
my smooth attack,
and bite back.

This weighted time,
of silence cycles,
is vocally broken.

Wind through tubes,
releasing fighter notes,
to combat the mood.

The quiet dissolves,
under the assault
of my song.

03/25/2004

Posted on 03/26/2004
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies