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Tender Blue Exile
This is the season when people are mended
Winter, so direct and forceful
Breathes fresh crisp life
Into all who embrace blue tingles
We breathe and our lives are sunk
Into the sky our lives evaporate
I feel revived, I feel alive
My melancholy meets like wise souls
Trees, all skeleton
Look raw, burnt by life
They are old men
Letting life feed off their relics
This is the season when I am mended
When stirring from sleep is a comfort
When darkness rules the roost
And light retires without supper..
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