Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
The tree – again! – it’s roaring white
Firing snow into the air
Lean long branches flash, declare...
Well, the weather’s fine, the grey clouds glowing,
The chilly wind has got a cheery tale
The mini-raindrops don’t care where they’re going...
