~~~ Winter ~~~

Last November on dead leaves I lay my head,
While the cold wind was a blanket on my bed.
Last November I could stand the freezing rain,
While the sound of the rain drops called your name.
Don’t exonerate this evening,
That is greet for the moon,
That evening is more precise for them,
Who are they?
I know not…
I am waiting in the page called “Lonely”
Waiting, waiting and waiting…
The sun also is waiting for the mighty morning,
Whispering, “Come to me”…
Last November the river never froze,
Now this November is obnoxiously frosty.