Reflections on a Windy Night:
Tonight when summer exists no longer,
Swings are swinging and creaking,
The ghosts playing by the dancing trees.
Shadows play hide and seek,
As grass grows longer,
And the rain still pitter patters on the window panes.
Some faces are wet with tears,
Sitting in doors,
Alone or in company.
Listening to the wind roar,
The rain falling outside.
When does it hit you?
The things that mean something.
Now some things are gone,
Like a piece of tissue blown away in the wind.
All our moments,
Like fragments of tissue,
Will ever so gently be swept away.
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