Day and Night

Poems whisper to me on the lips of the wind They are calling to my heart, The one that wanders the open prairie and sees the waves in the wheat fields just like the bluebird perched on the cracked fencepost poems are sweet...smooth...soft A storm gallops closer and the lonesome bird flies home, away from the poems of the night that rip the fence from the ground and burn them in a Fiery, Violent Rage They Don't Care for the blissful poems of the day special beasts that they are we will never capture their roving spirits.