An Acre and a Half

She saved my life with a shift to the left side
out of the sunshine in to the
woody glen where we thrive
on an acre and a half.

Back in the day when I hung out in dark bars
looking for quiet and any
sort of cure for my scars
she poured me my medicine.
I drank it without …

… questioning input or outcome the flavor of which was a precipice
swallowing its air bitter and open was a genesis.

Pulling back from the uncertainty wasn’t the answer I thought it was
Giving and taking were twins like time and pause.

Writing was a way of doing both
making space and trafficking drugs across it
drugs like love and its opposite independence.

On an acre and a half we worked
out the kinks in personal differences
room enough for the two of us to percolate …

… percolate innocence out of our full heads
out of our strong and weak wills
rich and steaming mercury
tincture, tonic, potion, remedy.

Everyone can afford luxury after all
if only saying what you will
yell it into the sky
high above your acre and a half.

[9/8] G6 // /// F#7 // Dm9b5 // /// Am7 //
B // /// ///
Bm7 // /// Am ///
[4/4] C#m9 /  G6 / F#11 / B7 /

[9/8] Bm7 // /// Am // Bm // Am // C#m9 // F#7 // /// Bm11 // ///
F#7 // /// G7 //  Am7 // /// C#m9 //  C9 // ///

[9/8] Bm7 // /// /// [4/4] Gm7 ///
[9/8] Am9 // /// /// [4/4] Gm7 ///
[9/8] D7 // /// C9 //  F#7 // /// ///


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
This entry was posted in love, poem, poetry, song and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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