Sweetness and sorrow


This river under mountain flow
this storm of wind where rain will blow again, against the rooftops and the window panes,where children peer into a gloom and play I spy.
This wonder why or who goes there and do we grow,does this world care?

In Winter when the recent green turns brown and growls again,against the barking howl of chill,
I will hibernate,keep warm,sleep late into the night of when the winter light would light no day until the spring is sprung and I can run again,against the morning of my day.

This river under mountain flow will take me on until I go
and then,
and then I do not know
the page has yet to feel the ink,no link is set
I will forget and when remembering in spring
will forget again.

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