not set
2001-08-27 02:58:08 (UTC)

To Seek A Warmer Clime

Here I stand;
I, voyeur to this road.
A wet grey, a thining wool,
Seeps through below me,
Covering the valley with tingling dew;
It is lonely here, and cold.

Few pass by me, on this road.
Those that do are hard,
Like the road itself,
And cloaked in a darkened rainement.
They go about their way,
With no thought to either side.
It is lonely here, and cold.

Alas, from here, the road curves down,
Into a wood of barren, misted pine,
And my view is blocked;
I think, just around that bend
Are a warmer people, who would offer shelter
From this pervading chill.
But I shall never know now, as my time
Beckons back, beckons to my tasks assigned.
Perhaps later, I shall return to this spot,
And venture futher, around the bend,
To seek a warmer clime, for
It is lonely here, and cold.

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