Chill is the night wind
And shrill is the voice that bears
The lost marchers' chants.
Wind rattles windows
As it howls past the house,
Scouring the land.
My little breeze from
Blanket folding, not the same
As Waimea's wind.
eyk 5/28
Chill is the night wind
And shrill is the voice that bears
The lost marchers' chants.
Wind rattles windows
As it howls past the house,
Scouring the land.
My little breeze from
Blanket folding, not the same
As Waimea's wind.
eyk 5/28
Prompt: Unknown