Sunday, April 1, 2012

Maybe... doan know

maybe I posted this before... maybe not.  It is a song by Leo Kottke, but I think it reads better as a poem.  or maybe a tree... maybe it reads better as a tree.  I doan know.



 Morning is the long way home

I heard your voice at midnight
By the river shore
I saw your child sleeping
Behind an open door
The moon was in the river
Shining up from the floor
And the fish swam like moonlight
Through your child's closing door
And morning is the long way home

The fisherman was drowning
By his broken heel
His screams were tiny bubbles
And his tongue made of steel
When he died his teeth made stones
For your lonely child to feel
And his eyes like prayers were quiet
When you heard his tongues of steel
And morning is the long way home

The ghost of ghosts was passing
And the grasses waved like hair
I Knew I'd die forgotten
I'm the whisper of your care
The water would surround me
And my body would despair
But my heart would understand
The door that's closing there
And morning is the long way home

Leo Kottke

3 comments:

susan said...

Also one of my all time favorite guitarists. Nice tree.

Life As I Know It Now said...

Nice poem and nice tree :)

Randal Graves said...

That doesn't read like Slayer.

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