Seems like We Must Be Somewhere Else
Sweet procession, rose-blue,
and all them bells.
Bandstand red, the eyes
at treetop level seeing it. "Are we
what we think we are or are we
what befalls us?"
The people from an open window
the eyes
seeing it! Daytime! Or twilight!
If we're here let's be here now
Sweet procession, rose-blue.
If we're here let's be here now.
And the train whistle? who
invented that? Lonesome man, wanted the trains
to speak for him.
Structure
15 lines · 4 stanzas