Sun Spots

like doves in the wind
we sit and stare
at you in your red dress
they were there
at the start of it all
in the morning dramas
bored with barbers and all the lights
all the fathers that failed their wives
men that were and girls that gain
all the wonder in the rain
all the words
birds, that flock together
no more white for the feathers
just life without leisure
a place of no pleasure or purpose
droning day in
a day out makes me nervous
and the souls that know nothing
they moan
we could say something
or groan
no more hatred for the hare
late again dear Fred
i stare, at all the sights
the darkness grows in the absence
of rights
injustice in everything
but they’d rather fly kites
fly fish and fight
themselves in the night, in the parks
in the waxing and waning
moon lark
moon day
Amun-Ra will have his way
and we’ll know the answers at the end
the cycle that plays
is no more surprising than a friend

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