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this is the killing
this is the end of i i pay the sky to bury me in blood i feed the vulture all of i rest falling on trees leaves weighted down i am inside roses thorny i hold free the i moon sky fields hills open divine i find yellow fire tulips dripping i find orbit garden graves yards of sky find the i under in wind thick as stone stone thick as i |
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nice Jimmy...I really had to work to click on that small i to read your poem.
 
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I
shelters the cold wind blowing I See's the greatness of thee I Wraps her warmth upon your heart I See thee  
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Denise, you warm my heart
thank you |
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