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Description
The snows they melt the soonest when the winds begin to sing
And the bee that flew when summer shone in winter can not sting
I've seen the young man's anger melt between the night and the morn
So it's surely not a harder thing to melt a young man's scorn
So don't you bid me farewell here, no farewell I receive
For you will lie with me, my love, and kiss then take your leave
And I'll wait here 'til the moorcock calls and the martin takes the wind
For the snows they melt the soonest when the wind begins to sing.
~Cara Dillon
The gazebo on Boston Common, Dec. 19 2008.
Image size
600x480px 44.47 KB
© 2008 - 2024 jaiz-babe
Comments15
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This is beautiful, really.
I really love it.
I really love it.