I love our pond and its damp grass,
where the spring always sleeps.
And hearts are cold,
for I am a cold man.
I truly love our sleeping pond,
and its red cheeks on winter nights.
I remember when my mother made it a hat.
My mother knew pond spirits well.
She told me that the pond was a gypsy girl.
And that she was a fairy who told drowned but kind tales.
Nov 1, 2025
Nov 1, 2025 at 9:10 AM UTC
I love our pond and its damp grass,
where the spring always sleeps.
And hearts are cold,
for I am a cold man.
I truly love our sleeping pond,
and its red cheeks on winter nights.
I remember when my mother made it a hat.
My mother knew pond spirits well.
She told me that the pond was a gypsy girl.
And that she was a fairy who told drowned but kind tales.
