Sixteen
I perish in the sand,
as the ball rolls away.
I have nothing in my hand,
and nothing in my mouth.
It’s a dark cloud,
a mountain that can’t be
moved.
Don’t say the words,
if the wind doesn’t blow
through your hair.
I play in the soil,
as the song falls away.
I have an empty pocket,
and empty is in my heart.
It’s a rain forest,
a bear that can’t be fooled.
Don’t play the notes,
if the water doesn’t fall on
your head.
