The girls we once followed home are
now the bag ladies,
or one of them is that white-haird
old crone who
whacked you with her
cane.
The girls we once followed home
sit on bed pans in nursing
homes,
play shuffleboard at the public
park.
Those girls we followed home,
no longer rub their bodies with oil
under the sun,
no longer primp before the
beautiful mirror,
those girls we followed home,
those girls we followed home
have gone somewhere,
some forever,
and we who followed them?
Dead in wars, dead of heart
attack,
dead of yearning,
thick of shoe and slow of
speech,
our dreams are tv dreams,
so few of us remember
the girls we followed home.
When the sun always seemed to
be shining.
When life moved so new and
strange and wonderful
in
bright dresses.
I love to read.I read about hundred books a year(no joke,i list them)...since i shared this fact on my profile and invited other book worms to write me i've recieved a ton of mail from others who love books.This is wonderful,i hope
i continue to get a lot of this mail...but because i get so much of it and i need a new project i've decided to create this blog about books.I hope you like it.
*Ruby*