Another Memory
Like drops from a soft spring rain,
the tatter sounds keep tapping at me.
Thoughts of you still lap about me
like dripping waters washing round
my feet. The trembling streams aren't enough
to carry me off but make me wonder:
"Might they want to?"
the tatter sounds keep tapping at me.
Thoughts of you still lap about me
like dripping waters washing round
my feet. The trembling streams aren't enough
to carry me off but make me wonder:
"Might they want to?"
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