Catriona

Sunday morning
And you’re on my mind
You’re always on the edge
Of the shadow of a mystery
That makes me weak
Skirting my periphery
Slipping into frame
Whenever I need you
Then this imperfect love
That changes in the wind
Will carry me away
In the inconstant shallows
Of a conscientious hope
That always leads me back
To your ever present form
Beautiful in simplicity
Precious in retreat
And these Sunday mornings
Will last forever
Even if we haven’t.

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