The sun is
setting on Noon Peak
Mr. L downtown
still wears his winter frown
he's still freezing from the chill
that hits his stores on the bottom of shady hill
Just behind
the box of windows
and the green grass shades
a bountiful melody weeps
the summer girl she sleeps
She moved into
the salty green home
last November
atop Shady hill for a cheap winter thrill
Right around
the thaw
I heard what Mr. L saw
and I still wonder
how the world can be so cold
and the decisions we make are never really as their told
So in boxes
packed neatly, tightly- are all her things
and rings of gold, sitting impatiently, already sold.
