Out The Door Poem by Walter C. Edwards

A lonely blown horn sounds out,
and then brakes the silence,
of a dark winters meadow,
all covered with fog,
and dew, lite frost covers,
the land around us to,
under this hazy moon,
our lives seem so pail and blue,
we will have to pull our selves together,
so in the spring we can start a new,
I often wonder what we are going to do,
if the pieces don't fit,
and it just will not work out no more,
turn a page and your out the door,
to the clear skies and ocean blues.