Snake oil living isn't for me,
but a cold Summer's day in Autumn
never wants to pass away
Such imaginary machinations
used to pierce my coat, knelt in snow,
vainly begging the flock to stay
The onslaught of Winter means
feathers must soar, as we know,
but even one in the frigid dark
can wish for Spring one day
Written by Janette B on August 28, 2023. FUCK COPYRIGHT!