Wednesday, February 6, 2008
yellow room
The yellow room will always be there. Much passed across that old table, much kicked beneath it. What was ate, what was drank, what was sung, what was left out? Yellow room was stolen and squandered by fools. Tied that old table to my back, carry it to this day. Do you know how it sings sometimes? Pushes me right along with a tear stained smile. Close to putting the legs back on that old girl. One night, one tale, one more start. The color of the room will be stitched together by our joy. Steal that fool, steal that.
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2 comments:
The day the old girl is standing on her legs again I want to be there to christen whatever color surrounds. No fools can ever steal the joy of that day...of that room...of that family of friends.
You are right Skip. You are so right..
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