Come go with me
past the driveways and lawns
past the schools and police stations pulsing with life.

Come down the thin, crooked path
that runs along back of those sheds
huddled behind the sagging huts
of weary strangers who look through us like celophane.

Trace it
past that place where the crickets stop chirping,
past that place where the breezes go to die.

Come go with me there.
Hold my hand if you want -
if it makes you feel better.

Come -
I'll show you the way
to that little corner of the world
where the soil is soft and warm,
where blanketing shadows keep their secrets.

Come join the party waiting there
of all my friends just waiting there,
so quietly,
they're waiting there
they're always,
always waiting there
and soon you'll join them,
waiting there,

a-waiting, waiting,
just for me.

05/23/2007

Posted on 05/24/2007
Copyright © 2025 Maria Francesca