For Yesterday Somehow

We are bent in the Wind that promises better things.
We watch the the clouds quilt the Sky.

Sometimes it seems sad,
that we sleep so much more than we dance.

The bridges of topic we burned with abandon in our March on Love.
Now Life is a Mad Tea Party of memories and still much to accomplish.

Now again they bent their heads and walked against the Wind..
The town waited around the hill.

They pass through the sleeping orchard dreaming of Summer herbs.
They speculate on the mystic apples of the future.
And find themselves home.:.