Orchard - Indian Summer

Slow trundle

Eyes bound to forever

Sunrise collected taken

Under sown collection

Of mirrors past

Seeing from sleeping

The joys

Of the newfound wing

Pulling heart and soiled

Wormlike drudging

In movements pictures

Heavy tenfold

Of an iron brigde

That will not burn

9 ft of solid mud

Holding and stealing

The movement of beams

Yearnings of swaying

Forgotten as once more

I crawl your surface

For loss i am guilty

For this i am sorry