Step Into The Wake

The pulsating heart bakes,

receptive to the light;

Piano keys lust for touch,

hungry enough to bite;

Sliding down the hill,

the black rabbit stares and laughs;

Not one but two friends off in the distance,

shaking with the calfs;

Dawn and dusk meet as friends,

no angst in the passing;

Wind up the concert, dear agents,

It is now my turn to sing.