The piercing of the wind
Iced like the mountain peaks
Brought water to my eyes
And a stinging to my cheeks
It left hands too cold to grip
And lips to numb to speak
It cut through my cloak
And made the outlook bleak
I have always greatly admired the Sloth Though not in any way the cardinal sin I admire the Sloths of South America Noted for their ...
No comments:
Post a Comment