Friday, February 6, 2009

A moment

Resting on the road, a hot summer night,
crescent moon rising high, calm and quiet,
the black on my face, the whispering leaves
by the cool summer breeze, I lie

I travel on a shining route, to nowhere
yet touching my effervescent heart, everywhere
the odysseys of millions, under my feet
by the cool summer breeze, I sleep.