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Every Direction Going

from Where You Call Home by rhob cunningham

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www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/ice-watch-paris_5668af72e4b009377b23bdef

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I can't source your water, be your diviner
if fire is all you pine for
it's too hot for us at this temperature

in the face of every glacier outside the pantheon
As the sun defies the fact-at-hand that winter should've come
And if you try flying
there's a storm where you call home
every direction going


I can't source the fuel to feed all your fires
I'm tired of who they burn for
it's too hot for us at this temperature


in the face of every glacier outside the pantheon
As the sun belies the fact-at-hand that Summer should be gone
And if you try flying
there's a storm where you call home
every direction going

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from Where You Call Home, released December 11, 2015

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rhob cunningham Dublin, Ireland

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