Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Rebecca Martin
Past the bookends
Stairwells and phantoms
Faced with the pages
Of ancients and sages
Over mines
The writer’s blocked
Over tired
His thoughts are bound and tied
The mooring passed us
So our fleet went in search of
Answers to questions
Without Gods or fearful hearts
Just a boy and his firm belief
That the sun is all he needs
The beautiful and wide eyed
Are the ones who’ll get things done
There’s not a soul around who understands this
Like his mother does
“For us all there comes a time
When the spark grows dim then dies”
Then Change