Winter gloves on
Paling summers gone
And you echo
Along
Distress on the walls
'Cause memories are loud
While they echo
As the cold runs through
The holes you’ve made
Wind’s tickling your nose
As you reach for those
Who echoes
Along
Poems for drifters
Stacking solid ground
As she echoes
'Til the tail of the storm
I will lay in snow 'til im the dawn