Neela

The flowers of a tombstone
the books of affection
the night of a thousand glasses
full of reflection
these are the gestures of a man with a clear picture
of a mare in the meadows with too many tufts of thorns
next to a quilted shadow on a humble shore
it all felt too close to my heart, but ..

The voice of the past
the queen of the clock
with hands that have worked
hard on the docks
I still remember the day we turned it all back
we all sang ‘moon-rock’
missed the ferry, found the train tracks
but it all felt too close to home ..and I was missing something

Neela? 

Author's Note

This is probably the worst thing I've ever written ... but darn it it's simple for once