my eyes droop, and close.
op e n i n g
to find what's forgotten in seasons passed.
of raindrops, a bow
is strung to pierce the sounds we hear in wishing, seasons strong.
i'll catch the massive cold where i belong-
wronging grips
on a spindle freeze,
oh pleading the water's grip to ease
away. alone, steps in tides.
cleansing stone-wrought mother's eyes-
from seven lonely sides.
rain, rain, snow.
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