Friday, January 7, 2011

of love and other demons

Of what good is love, she asked, if you don't care for, or give respect!

Of what good is it, he agreed, if you can't trust, or won't try to understand!

Their hearts still sang as one, as they always did,

and though the wind howled madly through the night, yet the dry earth remained parched.

The grass was a gift, I remember, now that it is Summer.