appears in the sky,
sliding out of the clouds,
sharing light on
a few
a few
desperate men
in long coats,
leaning forward
in the wind.
in the wind.
everyone at once
has agreed that
it's too cold to sin,
it's too cold to sin,
too cold
to be of good cheer too.
the brittle trees
hold on
as i do, trying to get
home to you.
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