#12 - stretched on a hoop

...inspired by ‒ and borrowing from ‒ ‘Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie’ and other tracks from ‘The Milk-Eyed Mender’  With apologies to Joanna Newsom…

there are some mornings when the sky looks like a road

there are some destinies less obvious than hell

and though the years run by yet we will not grow old

as daylight comes to dress and wash away the cold

as cigarettes and coffee illustrate the scrawl

there are some mornings when the sky looks like a road

bound up in a story a memory and code

stretched out on a hoop is another yarn to tell

and though the years run by yet we will not grow old

while bats dissolve in darkness merging into gold

dragon wings lie heavy on empty Harrenhal

there are some mornings when the sky looks like a road

where seas divide the blue and rivers shed their load

we steal a skiff to set our sight on Paravel

and though the years run by yet we will not grow old

with hopes and reveries too nebulous to hold

machineries of loving mitigate the fall

there are some mornings when the sky looks like a road

and though the years run by yet we will not grow old

RJT