There is something about the winters, love em or leave em.
Summers the same, spent longing for winters
When the air stands still nothing hangs, just floats
only a stare across the street
a sound across the ocean
invites
in the distance
a woman cries
makes for wonder
what could be?
the twig in the storm, flies, it were a bee
going around now
only to be calm like the sea
carried by winds far and wide
settle eventually roadside
The road lies ahead
bare and alive
no soul
lively on the whole
stories it has seen many
story it must hear this time
When winters come and the air is still
the twigs of distant land
occupy the road
life has it's ways, it kills
every year there are those winter chills
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