Mourning Sun
Your eyes like the bright autumn moon,
but winter will come to you soon.
Don’t stay out there in the cold.
I’ve been outside splitting wood
to build you a fire. You should
come gather round by the gold glow.
The morning sun already knows,
revealed in its glow:
footprints in the new fallen snow.
I thought you were cold, but I had no idea
as I went to build you a fire.
I nearly froze, but in hindsight I see
I was building my own pyre
and it was cold that you desired.
The morning sun already knows,
revealed in its glow:
footprints in the new fallen snow
