O. C. Woods (08/05/1981 / Rouhling)
Cold Sun Rays
Siberian chills for us to be close
imaging the days of ours and the warmth
spring is now far from the coco form palms in mittens
wasting time under lights from spotless nights to myth
spare time to think about us three or two to one
what does the Cold Rays bring February told sun?
has our day come?
to sum up I was just try to run
or is it the Cold Sun Rays casting puns?
Golden hard insignificance is now
hidden right under cold lack of snow
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.