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Today the summer crawled with aching nerves, |
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A shade of deepest blue in August's verse, |
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The lines draw out and trace this restless town, |
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That laid our bloodless thoughts into the ground, |
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Today... |
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Worn old stains bloom red to grey, |
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Cold hands strain to feel the light of day. |
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Warm clear glass, the sun dressed in white, |
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Mourn days passed, faint ties held tight. |
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Today the air grew cold with aching nerves, |
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The frayed and splintered grains of summer's hearse, |
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The lines draw out and trace this reckless town, |
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That raised a bloodless ghost out from the ground, |
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Today... |
