Howling love messages into the wind, storm symptoms
Leaning onto the lintel, making sure the pages feed the brimfire
I don’t mind anymore, I have consigned myself to boredom
A life of spiteful backlooking, until crooked old cronelooking
Tiresome overlooking, brimming bucket I bring to bubbled sudding
I clean the place after flooding, better days and ways are coming
Ceremony of summoning accompanied by summer lightning and thunder
Under oak’s umbrella we fell in love
Your shoes by the roots, kicked off worn loose.
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