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..