Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter

Thursday, August 21, 2003

Because

I would paint you
in shades of silver
and colors of the ocean
to match your moods and
all the beliefs I remember
and fell in love with
when I found you.
I would paint you free
like herds of wild mustang
traveling the great plains,
which thrive in the open.
I would paint you sweet
like grapes in Visalia orchards.
Like the wine, like the songs
I treasure most, because of
what they remind me, Irishman.
I would hang this canvas
in the sky, in the Rockies,
or at the shore, and let you go
because I love you deep.


Bailey
August 21,2003

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