Untitled
In fields of grey wet winter birth,
With cracking trees of bone and earth,
I see you walking with me . . .
Holding hands and whispering.
And as the sky grows dark,
I turn and kiss you on your cheek,
Tasting that lonely tear.
With cracking trees of bone and earth,
I see you walking with me . . .
Holding hands and whispering.
And as the sky grows dark,
I turn and kiss you on your cheek,
Tasting that lonely tear.
Labels: MY WRITING
2 Comments:
just remember I knew you before you were famous!
too kind you are
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