listening to the new Fleet Foxes album
on the autumn equinox, feeling important
right in the middle of future nostalgia,
where I will smell this song water again.
sleepy but not tired, I see
what the wind needs in me,
blowing away my good Tuesday blues
with the weather of forever.
even feeling good makes me
nervous, because of the frequent
quick flip of the coin that gambles
on where my cloudy shoes will take me.
our little choices reflect
the alternative in the skies in lakes
for the places we call home
and the changes it takes to remake thee.