Shelter from the Warm
I am a new immigrant on this dandelion orb: Earth
‘Step lightly’ is what my instinct tells me
I feel the danger in the gentle spring breeze
Feel the phasing out and finality of finite footsteps
Know that it’s not going to last
When she changes and the love in her voice goes
And she’s distant.
Even though she said forever, what did she know?
Bobbie once sung about
“Old men with broken teeth, stranded without love”
And I, this silly little immigrant, shy-stepping across this sinking, falling-petal-Earth, say that having no love and being old is one and the same thing.