Simon & Garfunkel

It's a still life water color
Of a now late afternoon
As the sun shines through the curtain lace
And shadows wash the room
And we sit and drink our coffee
Cast in our indifference, like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation, and the superficial sighs
The borders of our lives
And you read your Emily Dickenson
And I my Robert Frost
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost
Like a poem porely written
We are verses out of rhythm, Couplets out of rhyme
In syncopated time
And the dangling conversation, And the superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives
Yes we speak of things that matter
With words that must be said
Can analysis be worthwhile
Is the theatre really dead
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot feel your hand
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation, And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives
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\_\_\_ \_ \_ Glen Macon
\_ \_\_ \_\_ any-net: macon@cbmvax.commodore.com
\_ \_ \_\_ \_ Standard disclaimer...
\_ \_\_\_ \_ \_ \_ Commodore doesn't endorse what I say, I do
\_ \_ \_ \_ Who wants to know...
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\_\_\_ \_ \_
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All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain.