Uninvited, A high pitch cry Breaks the glass, As an old photograph falls Into the concrete ground. A mockingbird shoots Past the tainted window, As snow skies approach The old house on the hill.
Like a page in a book Waiting for its turn, The young boy stares At the grandfather’s clock As music will come And his mother will dance.
The bounteous fires Feed on this winter solace As strong winds hiss The wish of a mother To keep her boy safe Here, in this now.
A high pitch cry
Breaks the glass,
As an old photograph falls
Into the concrete ground.
A mockingbird shoots
Past the tainted window,
As snow skies approach
The old house on the hill.
Like a page in a book
Waiting for its turn,
The young boy stares
At the grandfather’s clock
As music will come
And his mother will dance.
The bounteous fires
Feed on this winter solace
As strong winds hiss
The wish of a mother
To keep her boy safe
Here, in this now.