Winter--what an appropriate time
To say goodbye:
Cold mornings alone,
Under a frozen sky.

Once we were singing
A song of tomorrow
That never was to be;
Why couldn't we see?

Sun-washed melodies
Tossed on an August wind;
Around the hours
And back again.

But now I watch you walk away--
Collar to the northern wind;
Wondering if I'll ever see
Your face again.....

© SBK 1989