children, gentle, in the twilight
playing in the misty snow;
i can see them
i can't hear them
heads like bobbing apples glow.
fire tickles me to slumber
heeding not my watchful eye,
suits are dark against the background
movements slackened by their load.
little feet and tender bodies
roll about the trampled snow,
banks have gathered angel outlines
dusty tresses far below.
children, gentle, in the twilight
harsh against the growing pale,
eager faces, small boy graces
calm the evening's slow repose.
playing in the misty snow;
i can see them
i can't hear them
heads like bobbing apples glow.
fire tickles me to slumber
heeding not my watchful eye,
suits are dark against the background
movements slackened by their load.
little feet and tender bodies
roll about the trampled snow,
banks have gathered angel outlines
dusty tresses far below.
children, gentle, in the twilight
harsh against the growing pale,
eager faces, small boy graces
calm the evening's slow repose.
