4

Imaginations

THETREE

Tdon’t now how he can do it just sit in that chair and not even attempt to rise no caring he just puts in his time the tree he once planted now dies goes to mass ° every Sunday yet the message is not appreciated wake Up soon or you may be dead climb to the top man, I ‘wouldn’t miss it for the world

c hris McCarron

Sundays!

lemcries ofd make 1toom for new Bydreams floating through the air

Reality distorts perception

as Aquarian tears flood memories Of you my Moon Cheld

4n this the ekeventh hour vibration patterns of need

for security intercepted

Lunar pulls dinect

emotion hiding behind

the sixth and eigth signs

Of spirituality crying

beneath your protective shell Cautions as safety and security Lrke falling stars

old photographs disintiqnrate in to darkness within darkness without trust the night figures Of feminity rule

your memory houses mother-Love's ain penetrates water churns and stirs and disappears Leaving you gentle Leader

fo find your own way

backwards home.

ves of CBC drone in the background casually

mnnect themselves to the world outside

M dtagongly wings humming in the haze Of summer's Laziness

meads itsels over the garden that needs

tering but not today.

BoUriirg cach steamy fap of cokioe amid the smctls

_bacon fat and greasy eggs

voices drone on through the piles Of m@S4S Cverywhere

Mugs its shoulders in silence Wandering any wish to be cleaned

11 get and stretch pushing aside deadlines mit exrst in the newspaper whose unrudéled pages sit idly bu

a by the time I reach out for them ey are gone through the open window me that sucks them out into ain

ht xememberances of yesterdays.