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Literature Text
Tall is a man,
blue brother in swirls.
Come meet the siren-call.
Cold is the salmon of knowledge
cloaked in these dreaming arms.
Oh, brother, brother in woad,
pagan hands scribe romance
of october pirates
and curly blonde wool.
Night Clouds are lamps for wanderers.
blue brother in swirls.
Come meet the siren-call.
Cold is the salmon of knowledge
cloaked in these dreaming arms.
Oh, brother, brother in woad,
pagan hands scribe romance
of october pirates
and curly blonde wool.
Night Clouds are lamps for wanderers.
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A poem for my good friend Rowan.
4-22-08
4-22-08
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