spoon bridge falling

End of semester stress has left me with little time and even smaller motivation to do any writing lately- fortunately, I have a long, long list of old pieces I can continue to share as the semester is winding up. Written in August of this year:

I open up my fuzzy eyes,

Could she still be mine?

This girl's dreams are coming down,

burning on the summer skyline.

Could she still be mine?

Her endless horizon's still calling,

burning on the summer skyline.

These ducks are flying on over.

Her endless horizon's still calling,

while we store away our nightly sighs.

These ducks are flying on over

as the water and the cherry collides.

While we store away our nightly cries,

this girl's dreams are coming down.

As the water and the cherry collides,

I open up my fuzzy eyes.