Magpies

here where the cold wind

blows across the fields

and the magpies

gather all that glitters

here where the old men

speak of long lost things

in a language

that never seems to matteri think of youhere where your white walls

color in the past

and the windows are looking in on yesterday

i hear you voices

quiet like the night

i picture you in everythingi think of yousometimes i think

that you might have been

something like rainbows on water

sometimes i think of how

life must have been for you here

what life could have been for you here

what life should have been

here with youhere where the cold wind

blows across the fields

and the magpies

gather all that glitters