Foreign Skies

When the moon pull rushes in

Crashes into sand

It lingers in the last sunlight

And holds onto every strand

I'm as still as boats on land

Sitting next to you

Breathing in a foreign sky

More shades that the word blue

Air as warm as runny honey

Pours golden on my skin

The wind plays games with olive leaves

And brushes the grass into lines

I'm as still as boats on land

Sitting next to you

Breathing in a foreign sky

With more shades than the word blue