dew on the grass
frosty windscreen
twas a cold night's coming
I had of it
leaving with a kiss
foreplay for
nights away
a maidenly nod
I dreamt and sped
through just enough
traffic to
slow me down
New Work
No Lines Marked
that's the way
my dreams all unfenced
at home in
my suburban flat
I speak to you
across an ocean
a desert a forest
even the hours
and temperatures
are different
yet here am I
whispering
in your shell-like
instead of hers
Andrew Burke
Mt Lawley
25 August 2005
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