Once I spread my arms and fell,
mouth open with nothing to tell,
swallowed the bland fruits of the sky.
On such nights, who could survive?
Where are my old seasons?
Apologies more than reasons,
the winter behind the spring
Make me forget I am no king.
You’ll gather me over the fire,
I’ll stretch you across the sky.
You say there’s time but I have none.
Life is so short, forgetting so long.
Sit by counting the window panes.
We will never be the same.
Shore this against a coming storm.
I’ll still be here when you’re gone.