CITY WALK IIElisa Gabbert & Kathleen Rooney
In the spirit of disclosure, I would like to share something trivial, reflexive Under shadow of a huge cloud You know, this used to be a meadow Dandelions & everything Folk names like lion's tooth, folk names like tell-time What are shattered bird's eggs a sign of Called facsimiles, now obsolete Geese in a Z instead of a V? Will metaphor never die? The trees here have no leaves, just tiny white lights It's eerie warm for the season Under my concurrent consideration, some half-assed theory Even after it's dead, wood still breathes—it absorbs and exudes humidity Why are there no great female composers?
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