Untitled. Wrote it just now.
When the winter night ends
And you begin to pretend
That that light is the sun up high
That morning is braking
As the stars are shaking
And the frost turns to summer spry
With soft breezes blowing
The summer storms flowing
But the rainy ground soon is dry
You live for the moment
And seem all hell-bent
On never letting summer die
No comments:
Post a Comment