Winter Day And Space (From, Dried Flowers)

Winter day and space of the urban earth, Where the river starts its flowing in spring; Like seeds ideas come forth into new birth, Though old ones are there still worthy to sing. With your hand in mine I will walk again, Searching down the road for other pathways; Age is like a mirror tracking your yen, Through the passive feelings with a rephrase. Through the currant bushes in our lone veins, Boredom is too easy to be tauten; Nothing on this drifting makes ascertains, Like the pictures in clouds time's forgotten. Passage to the city clearings gone by, We can ask some questions and still espy.