On this cold December Evening
My thoughts turn to leaving.
Though I can not fight
The inevitable night
I can write,
Which gives me some pleasure
In this passing weather.
And words may dance on
When poets are gone.
On this cold December Evening
My thoughts turn to leaving.
Though I can not fight
The inevitable night
I can write,
Which gives me some pleasure
In this passing weather.
And words may dance on
When poets are gone.