deepundergroundpoetry.com
the vision
The vision
The horses, mares and colts that drank cold water
in the shallow river crossing the grassland
looked up a massive plane its wingspan
darkens the valley.
The horses gallop till they are tired and the plane has left
the horses, at ease, can graze again.
The far mountain is like a Canadian blue mountain song
is hazy and shivers like a broken vocal cord.
A lotus swarm of helicopters fill the sky and scared
horses are galloping, again and again, the sky darkens.
Then on the far mountain, a new sun appears it shines
bright for a while, then dies like a comet.
A storm blows, the grass withers and the river are dry.
Dead horses, but the blue mountain is a diamond
The horses, mares and colts that drank cold water
in the shallow river crossing the grassland
looked up a massive plane its wingspan
darkens the valley.
The horses gallop till they are tired and the plane has left
the horses, at ease, can graze again.
The far mountain is like a Canadian blue mountain song
is hazy and shivers like a broken vocal cord.
A lotus swarm of helicopters fill the sky and scared
horses are galloping, again and again, the sky darkens.
Then on the far mountain, a new sun appears it shines
bright for a while, then dies like a comet.
A storm blows, the grass withers and the river are dry.
Dead horses, but the blue mountain is a diamond
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