Monday, July 26, 2004
Tonight
Beneath a
lonely sky,
the wind wispers
through tree
branches.
Evening dew
rises against
my feet.
It is cold.
And I am
alone.
With only
your memory,
worn as a
sweater -
to keep
me warm.
And a
thin strand
of hope;
woven around
my finger.
Beneath a
lonely sky,
the wind wispers
through tree
branches.
Evening dew
rises against
my feet.
It is cold.
And I am
alone.
With only
your memory,
worn as a
sweater -
to keep
me warm.
And a
thin strand
of hope;
woven around
my finger.