The bears sat out all night
waiting for the snow and the gold flushing light
they knew would come
the tender dawn above the broken stones
the drying rivers
the sting of the will-o-wisp in the cold morning air.
Andrea Moorhead
.
The bears sat out all night
waiting for the snow and the gold flushing light
they knew would come
the tender dawn above the broken stones
the drying rivers
the sting of the will-o-wisp in the cold morning air.
Andrea Moorhead
.