Pipe broke, water spilled
The wrench was wrong
The crown turned and down it flowed
Over toes and growing flowers
Going to some unknown ocean
Blown and bent by tide and breeze
This secret sea sown with seeds

Old light, sleep disturbed
The dream was cold
Belief burned white to smoke it sighs
Through home and disheveled beds,
To tired minds and silent suppers
Scraped and exposed to flies and sun
This weeping sky, so still and still

Text and images © Andrew Auten – All Rights Reserved.