White Rabbit

I succeeded in getting more poems in the mail. Today, for the next few hours I'll try to write something to music. It's a beautiful day here in Colorado.

A day of rabbits, wild in the yard,
Alice chasing one down, down, down
So she can fly away. There’s nothing left
But a dream. The living walk to a strange
conversation. The silence of the dead
hums in the whisper of wind. I am
awake and dreaming, all together indifferent
to the past which haunted me ten years.

I believe in the soft wind, the bird chatter
translating joy. It’s a white day, the sky
a pillow on which we dream.