frogcircus.org

the poetry of Charles Fry

post

2015–

defi

2009–2013

belle

2007–2002

dada

2002–1999

sundance

1999–1997

frere

1997–1995

julian

1995–1994

stone

1994–1993

7 February 1997

hidden courtyards

your smile floating in the air
turns and softly sits down next to mine.
"That is nice" I think to myself
"but would you still be there if I walked
five hundred miles
?"
so carefully I stand up and start strolling down the road
casually as if I were going to look at my garden.
only is I stop
thing that never walking
not when the road turns
not when the city ends
not when Apollo takes the SUN away
until one day I arrive at a small courtyard
with a sign that says 500 MILES.
I open the wooden gate and walk in.
"That is nice" I think to myself
"Who's the authority on miles around here anyway
?"
And my smile floating in the air
turns and quietly sits down next to yours.

 forgotten memories   of being burned at the stake   sweet dreams   sharing   hand-in-hand   the stranger   hidden courtyards   holding You   princess   happy day   loneliness   fragile, handle with care   my small trip to the cement factory   dedication   this record is for You   the day that I cried   Last night I woke up under my bed.   my silver Dancing shoes   Man my heart tears.   the three things   strait jackeght   like you   abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz   Fire cooks me   Princess Alexandra:  A Little Story   cats up cat twice   sweet rain water   little children   my heart   How blind I am in wooden glasses.   I know she's crying cause it stains her voice,   Dear Family,   I pound at my heart   We run away from the ice cream truck   purple sunset   J. Elephant   so i walk up to you with this   the Soul queen   so, you say that i do not speak   window   dear sweet old Ordinary   i am a Harp