Hay Day

I tasted your harvest
Held you in the fall
I heard the strange changes
Saw no one at all

The tea leaves aren’t telling
The wax drips no words
The chords are atonal;
They’re not stacked in thirds

Hey, hey, hey
Play in the hay day
Swallow the bruises
The pain goes away

Hey, hey, hey
Today is a school day;
Just as tomorrow,
And every other day, too

Wheels will slow down,
And hammers go fall
The chains all fall off
There’s no reason to call

A mouth slams shut
For lack of a solver
Birdcage flies open
A willful revolver

Hey, hey, hey
Make rain on a sun day
All the swallows got bruises
A rose fades away

Hey, hey, hey
Today is a school day;
Just as tomorrow,
And every other day, too

I screamed at the empty
You clawed at the door
We kindled a fire
And burned out the floor

Pleading with empty
We gnawed a bit more
We ate the inferno
Lost sight of the score

There’s always more learning
What was already known
Lessons learned again
Are again to be shown

©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell

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Author: Kevin Trent Boswell

Kevin Trent Boswell is a thing that once blinked briefly in and out of existence. It made noises and gestures while it lasted. The exact nature of its demise is unclear. Some sources say it collapsed beneath the weight of entropy and time. Other tertiary evidence suggests the possibility that it was destroyed by a predator, an accident, or perhaps even by itself. The truth of the matter is unknown. Luckily, no one cares.

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