from The Walk

the flowers in bloom like a canticle red
and my heart wishes to sing along
and God paints the deep with thin ribbons of white
loosed to harp on the sand in their song!

la de da da da da la de da da

the verses of poppies are played by the wind
with the swoon of the sound in their head
and painters have ambled, their spirit to hymn
for the sake of the starlight unsaid.

la de da da da da

above cast the shimmering city of light
its violent harangue of guitars;
above cast the district its neon in night
but now we can see all the stars.

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