Glowing
The setting sun was sinking slow
At Cavan Lake that night
Russell and his mom had the fire going just right
Gramma and her faithful pal Tucker, black as coal
They were moving closer to the flame
The air was getting cold
We sang some songs as I recall
Even one I didn’t bring
That was that old nasty one that Grampa used to sing
So now when I get feeling bored with nowhere else to go
I slip inside that magic night
Not so long ago
Copyright © Mike Martin | Year Posted 2015
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