Our Season
You have gone away,and left me so cold and alone.
I look at the world around me
to see what you have left behind.
The clouds are so gray, so sore,
because thier sun has gone away.
The grass has turned dead and brown,
and the breeze has withered off
into the dead atmosphere.
The stream below the bridge
grows still in the silence.
And the birds have gone elsewhere
to build their nests of branch.
Where have you gone?
My weathered one?
Just know that I will be here.
When our season comes back around.
By: Brandi Deacon
2010
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