The Circle

Saturday afternoon the sunshine pours like wine through your window

But I know golden June can turn an empty grey against your window

And I feel like I'm on the outside of a circle-

If I walk by the trees I'll catch the falling leaves if the wind blows

But I know all this means is whiling on the hours watching side-shows

Will I turn my coat to the rain I don't know

But I'm going somewhere I can warm my bones

Fare you well I'll carry me away

and sing for those I know upon their birthdays.


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