Center  

Seeing those phantom colors spin loose,
now you have hooked into the groove,
swinging unchained blues- wild voice of
untamed fields, wild heart of unbounded
skies. A sunrise of symphonies, a decade
of bottled flight, a memory of childhood
hues, a handful of lost perfection, a sip of
thirst. A day broken at the seams, a drowning
sparrow, a changing horizon tumbling by.

© 2006 Ryan Baier