the birds

I don’t aim to fly higher than high.

I just aim

and well(that’s enough for me),

the rest is for the birds.

the dark of day

Like an archer without aim
I’ve shot myself so many times
into the dark of day.

Like a horse’s leg gone lame
I’ve broken mine so many times
into the dark of day.

Like night and day the same
I’ve hid away so many times
into that dark of day.

Though a dear friend it became,
farewell the night
which lit the way
out of
the dark of day.