The Wheatfields East of Eden

A little stroll
another day's assembly rolled
Off the line for but a time
And La, de, da it goes.
Sunshine
The quilt of day
Under which the children play
Breathe
A walk
A little talk
It cannot last they say
and our tomorrow will become
another yesterday

Sunshine, the quilt of day,
Under which the flowers lay
Breathing, a walk
Nobody's talk
It will not last they say.
All tomorrow's in the end
are our dead yesterdays.

Light in strands bejewel the lawn
The birds red morning’s wake up song
The crickets chirped away
In a languid sky the clouds went by,
Under the carousel of why.

Laughter, someone’s in the room
Flares through the night like fireflies
Amidst the pearl studded sky .
How long is the song before,
the sojourn life our last detour
The door creaks shut and
there, alone,
Into our silent catacombs

the sleeping chamber just below—
To go:
In an endless marching row—
They come, they go,
Back where they came from—home
Blink but a moment and they’re gone.

Jump rope and etch a sketch
And songs
Barbershop quartet sing alone’s
Children’s laughter, rum-tum-tum
Daffodils and bubblegum
The flowers fall under the Sun.