The sun glazed upon the horizon
Almost welcoming the ghost of winter
It was a sense of loneliness
That set me free
Now my friends are heirs of kings
As well as city directors
Whose address is unavailable
In directories or thin air
Such are seasons
Such are a handful of reasons
To walk in moonlight
Or to tread in broken harbors
In pale evening spread against the welkin
To touch your red skin once again