I have towers in my head.
I have towers in my yard,
sunflower towers.
Both are dead.
One tower I tied to a branch above, with my hand and heart.
The other tower has, wound about its core, a morning glory vine, which climbed this tower’s bones onto a branch above my mind, where it blooms in triumph.
One tower bound by Man, one tower bound by the land. Both are dead.
The morning glory lives.
Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 9/11/04
Chanti
Love Tinka
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :( >tears <
Peter
*tears* o, this packs quite a punch--vivid emotion rips the reader's heart--POWERFUL!
(((HUGS))), love, and thanks for remembering, love, karla. *tears*