i walked down
from the trees
a joyous heart
beating
i stepped into
your leaves
a softened man
sleeping
beneath rusty
old roofs
and white-walled
ghost havens
i listened to
Beethoven
and fed
desperate ravens
the hills
always speak
to skies
lilac and yellow
in whispers
so meek
like the strings
of a cello
we settled
in then
to a sky song
so fleeting
and danced
to the beat
of a passion
repeating.
