Songs of Youth
Hopes and expectations shot across the night sky ...Songs of Youth My thin memories were born Among the whispering grasses Of an Indiana field sloping down To drink from a nameless creek. They were suckled by jiggers And sung to by whippoorwills and crickets Under a weeping willow by the creek And endless summers of warm sunlight. Hopes and expectations shot across the night sky And sometimes danced real slow Pressed against young girls with hair like wheat And tissue...