Buried Poetry
Paper and pencils made a birth:
Poetry that I once wrote her
There's nothing we were holding down
Nothing we were holding down
I kept a favorite photograph
Of her and I in the tall dream grass
And nothing here could take us down
Nothing here could take us down
Paper buried in the dirt:
It's all the poetry that I once wrote her
It's something we were burning down
Something we were burning down
I lost my favorite photographs
Buried deep in the tall dream grass
There's so much I am holding down. (So much I am holding down.)
There's so much I am holding down