Staring…

Like winter…

Staring from a window. A window. Across the field. Field.

These days lie like Winter. Winter. Without you here, I won’t see you. I won’t see you. I won’t see you.

Again..

Staring from a window. A window. Across the field from the Sloe to the dry stone wall. I look for you. I cannot see you.

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Loser in a Lost Land…

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