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Moccasins
In the palm of the hammock hover
I sway like a pendulum
As time drips like a cry candle
Down my birthday cake
The scars of the years dried up
I devour like a newborn flower
The hammock sway
Ticks my heartbeat
Pushing time through lazy hours
And lazy birthday cake
Staling sour to my tongue
Where am I to set the course
Now I’m another year behind my rusty back
The road is a river
You let your car row on
Inside your birthday car
Sixteen candles standing tall
With burnt black wicks and kite tail smoke
Blown out and cooling down
The road is draped about the land
Like curtains made to scale walls
Big and burly tall
To squander time
Like the hammock pendulum
Left and right as the moccasined up feet
