Winter is knocking at the door
Ants are busy gathering the last crumbs of the mad summer
The frogs have mated and are digging now for hibernation
In search of a home...they are now
The gathered honey and wax
The years harvest to be locked inside hearts
To peep through the furrows at the meek daylight
Or the cold cold breeze
Drying the concrete
Scratching the frail skin
On bitter cold mornings
Reaping the harvest now
A dead telephone
An empty mailbox
And a frayed blanket
To sleep alone.....
Ants are busy gathering the last crumbs of the mad summer
The frogs have mated and are digging now for hibernation
In search of a home...they are now
The gathered honey and wax
The years harvest to be locked inside hearts
To peep through the furrows at the meek daylight
Or the cold cold breeze
Drying the concrete
Scratching the frail skin
On bitter cold mornings
Reaping the harvest now
A dead telephone
An empty mailbox
And a frayed blanket
To sleep alone.....
