When I turned the page
The corner bent into a perfect dog-ear,
as if the words knew Id need them again,
but at that time I couldnt see it.
I would read that page everyday for the next year.
She sang a short tune.
And I came from her soft touch and slept.
We sat on a shoreline watching wind scalp the white off the waves.
Sitting on a shoreline, and if I could do it, Id dog-ear this page.
We spoke about growing old and filling the futures empty stage.
I hope the weather holds,
but you dont need the sun to make you shine.
These island towns dont care for city folk,
but I think we can starve the city from our minds.
I know we wont want for much,
Its just me and you and a bed and a shoreline.