Ode To Aching Skies by Beth K HannahYou tasted like sand, salt, sky
I heard nothing over
The ache of a bow on guitar strings.
The continuum of time and taste
Vanishes into morning fog
I am now staring at the sun
Wondering where we all began.
If my skin is truly mine
And you would know
Hiding it in your palms
As you sing to me of giving,
Loving, and rising smoke.
I can do no more
Than what I proclaimed.
I carve this into you shoulders,
But I am a fleck of dust
On a blank, lonely prarie.
Please, let me melt into a
Quiet, sly portamento.
I can no longer be sand,
I need to fill sound waves,
And frequent that burn in your eyes. 03/01/2005 Author's Note: "Don't ever roll." Robert Plant
Posted on 03/01/2005 Copyright © 2024 Beth K Hannah
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