Goldenrod on Your Grave
Shivering spring blues thaw into summer gold, You're too far gone for me to ever hold, But never will I ever forget the day When I left goldenrod on your grave. And if I could pray for anything at all, I'd pray I can join you when summer turns to fall.
2
0
Wandering Tide
An elegy in the making.
Comments
Sign in or sign up to comment on this poem!
Poems by style
Poems by content