Give me winter
Set me free
From lethargic
Tendency

Let me care
Permit me want
In the chill
Of winter’s hunt

It’s not special where we go,
It’s a bit of a mess.
There isn’t really tons to do
But it’s all right there I guess.

There’s litter in the stream
And old pants in the grass.
Also the highway’s right there
But you can’t here them pass.

Still it’s out in the trees
And down by the lake.
There are benches and geese
And place for a picnic to make.

There are golf ***** by that fence
Half set in the ground.
And an abandoned hall
With broken glass all ‘round.

There’s even a pebble bridge
Where I get my paws wet.
And bushes and a squirrel,
I’d get him if I were let.

It’s a special place we go,
It’s a beautiful mess.
There’s tons there to smell.
Our time spent is the best.

A broken wishbone
For a broken wish.
A folded crisp
Found in a dish.

The first raindrop,
A twinkling star,
A sunken penny,
In a land afar.

A single eyelash
To blow away.
A dandelion,
Let come what may.

Burning ants out on the drive
Just to pass the time
On a Thursday afternoon
When afternoons were still mine

I made you some tea
The *** filled for two
I wait as it steeps
Then I wait for you