The sun had not returned,
nor the bees to the meadow,
and for 34 moons,
we waited, in silence,
and wept.
The remains of winter past,
filled up our minds,
and glided to the cold muddy earth,
like French Paratroopers,
seeking shelter.
Balloons cannot replace love,
seeds cannot undo the will of God Above.
The earth cannot breathe choking
Upon its own blood,
with the Remains of Winters Past. |