Chicken Little was right. It’s Sunday
and the sky is falling. It’s Sunday night
and it’s almost midnight or it seems like
midnight without you here. It’s late and
it’s August or almost August and you’re
not here; you’re out there somewhere,
sailing among the same stars in another
kind of sky.
………………Come back to me soon. Come
home tonight to this house of straw, losing
its battle with the wind; come home again
from the sea and the salted air to the trees
on the hills alive with green and the stars
falling like wayward wishes.
……………………………….Come home, my love.
It’s almost August.  The midnight sky is falling.

5 thoughts on “Skyfall

  1. viv, the reunions are sometimes so much sweeter this way…

    I know a man who likes to hike. his wife does not. So she drives him to the mountain of the day, and she goes shopping. When she comes back he gets in the car and, as he put it, ‘we each have stories to tell the other.”

    you got me sniffling with this one, Mr. Lavalette. Nicely done

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