come find me here beneath the moon of wintertime
amid the press of feelings, all of them mine
the winter sun hangs like a ghost in time
another year … another year
i’m happy blank, the days run quietly by
i cherish skin, my need, and abhor the lies
up in my room beneath the winter’s icy blue
i scratch my thoughts on love
and the summer’s long remove
gallagher
14 nov 78
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
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