Winter wind mix with the drag of a cigarette
Spiral off spinning soft wispy pirouettes
Past scapeshifting trees and spiring minarets
The last dying leaf waves sad like a bannerette
The fingering oaks are reaching and clawing
Up to the sky which is slate gray and yawning
Over the land where a spring ghost is haunting
Reminding me of the once long ago fawnings
When flush greenery brush painted blue skylines
and the flowing of flowers fell through the entwine
fingers of children that played in the shade of columbine
and the library was a gently and sweet glowing road sign
But the march of the moments came fast as a sparrow
No one felt a thing until it stung like an arrow
Until we were milled down under and harrowed
Some they gave fruit, flourish, I gave no farrow
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