11 Dec 2016

11 Dec 2016

While my teeth rot in sugar and tar
A crumpled sheet of clouds solemnly licks the sky
My friend the sun gets but a peep
Like a hastened hello
My flatmates the orchids face every which way
As I've moved them so many times they are confused where to grow
The dry December chill creeps under my half locked window
Excuse me
I am trying to feed my soul
I am trying to find a warm connection to the runners on the street
To the dog walkers and coffee holders with faces sucked into their screens
To the bare brittle branches and lacquered car tops
To the lavender crumbs sticking to my table cloth
My friend the sun gets into my eyes
He says, look up, here is some blue sky
As if to remind me to see not just what is but what could be.

A Garden for the Future

A Garden for the Future

Vocals: Léandre and the Craft of Dance

Vocals: Léandre and the Craft of Dance