January 16, 2009

victoria (P12)

(what i felt before. now, it is just a chilly wind.
for all those people i left behind: i saw your pictures.)

Sun shades the dock end, rocking seagull-skies
Reflection of the blooming, Killers call goodbye
Breathe in the salt air, and hum, hum a sigh
This is the where-who, this is my—

Molten dappled sun, stripes and rings on my wall
Half winking windows, cry but naught fall
Breathe in the gold air, and lazily call
This is the where-so, this is my—

Stand on the hill-top, glancing red fallings
Fence white, now not, perch the grey Kings
Breathe in the crisp air, and wing-softly sing
This is the where-why, this is my—

Naked brown branches, stand proudly high
Lungs of the white, as hard as you try,
Cannot hold back, in the icy air cry
Sweet, sweet home; you forever are mine.

3 comments:

rach said...

yes, this sounds very nice and victoria ish, but i do have a very vague memory from when i was 10 or something, i havent visited there in the longest of times.

lets go travel the world one day !

r.

rach said...

WHOAA !
THIS COMMENT LEADS TO THE ONE ON YOUR OTHER SITE !
AWWWESSOMME. ITS LIKE, A ... TRAMSPORT MACHINE.

rach said...

WAIT,
uhm nevermind.

my mind's playing tricks on me.