Parallel Lines
DAVID MICHAEL STITH
Parallel lines in the lawn
Slows natures progress to a crawl
Out here in the west
Out here where the good sun sets
The weary never rest
Do nothing unless you do your best they say
You brushed against my cheek
Bluebell bindweed broadleaf
Like burrs cling to our jeans
That moment stuck all over me
And i'm afraid to move
Afraid of what I might lose
Go on go on without me
I will find my own way
But there will come soft rains
To wash whatever's left away
Parallel lines in the lawn
Trimming back the overgrowth
Of something I once knew
Something I saw clear in you
I'm a spirit fugitive
I'm running from myself again
I will find my own way
I will find my own way
I will find my own way
I will find my own way
But there will come soft rains
To wash whatever's left away