desolate winter
indian summer comes late again
warm breeze blows thru empty branches
we'll pay for it some frozen day
my mind drifts
it changes like the weather of late
of people, places and things i'd like to see
i'll see some frozen day
as i wait
hollow sounds like a woodpecker on a dead oak
echoing off the lifeless yet warm hills
some frozen days
in my mind soak early sunset yet later each day
once again in the darkness, memory serves
we'll pay for it some frozen day
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