Running for the Moon

Yet, when we were together,

Your soul shook mine.

The mountain trees, encased in ice,

Crackled in the wind,

Sparkling against the cloudy sky,

So finely, we spied such rushes of sound,

As they approached at every angle.

Then, we raced to catch the sunset at Violet’s Locke.

The wisps of rose bruised the sky’s edge,

Against the purple backdrop,

And the river’s swells,

Frolicking with days last light . . .

Too bad you screwed up everything by asking me to cook, when I was always your breadwinner – writing all your demand letters.

But, then again, you did teach me a lot like “how to have holy experience while drinking hot water watching the moon.”

I wish we had kept that letter from Lurch – he’s stupider than both of us individually . . . but then again his family has been always chasing a buck for their own inadequacies.

Bye, Aulakh. Willst du spassmachen for the rest of your life? I hope so – turn your grey hair RED.

HippoParamus