With her yellows, blues, and grays
Just over the horizon
Hazily veiled by gentle snowflakes
Still present at a time
When she is usually absent
When one expects a shadow of a quilt
To cast a pall over her head
During dinnertime
To make me sense within her gloaming
Like I am in the middle of summer
When I am in the throes of winter
Hazily veiled by gentle snowflakes
Still present at a time
When she is usually absent
When one expects a shadow of a quilt
To cast a pall over her head
During dinnertime
To make me sense within her gloaming
Like I am in the middle of summer
When I am in the throes of winter
