my friend

the flower taking flight

on end of any open field alight

tell me the shadows standing still

miss me just say that you will

a month in passing never noticed you

a month of passing time in solitude

while at the base of yet another day, it's ok

another month is standing in the way

my friend

like a needle stick your stem

the skin of mother earth to prick

it bleeds the blood of second thought

indeed, regret slows the clot

a silver start, a solitary dime

could take apart, disarm this

with a minute of your time, my friend