May 19th
When I am eighty
I want to be that woman sitting
on the park bench near the water’s edge
finally knowing the horizon
as love letter,
song,
bread and wine
It’s not what you did or didn’t do that matters
Can you sit still in winter
under the forgiving sky?
When I am eighty
I want to be that woman sitting
on the park bench near the water’s edge
finally knowing the horizon
as love letter,
song,
bread and wine
It’s not what you did or didn’t do that matters
Can you sit still in winter
under the forgiving sky?