Everyman cries.
Two Trees Over A Home
Our gardens green and ripe,
Our Home touched by sun,
Coffee and a tobacco pipe,
Painted toes freshly done.
Sunday hope.
Sunday smiles.
Sunday soap.
Sunday styles.
Our gardens picked and cold,
Our Home touched by the night,
Empty cups of sad and old,
Painted nails out of sight.
Sunday aches.
Sunday shades.
Sunday flakes.
Sunday fades..
Dreams...Dreams.