jealous of the sun,
crackling of the snow,
there was no place for us to go,
so we walked into the field.
a melody as real as grass
came to us from the stars
there were no cars
no trains or malls or halls
a melody as pure as silk
came to us from the stars
no one knew how far we were
from where we used to be
the house it was so far away
looked to me as warm as bread
a melody
came to us.
©2006 Andrew French
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