Under the clouds in December,
We walk downtown, near the creek.
Why is the water moving on?
The cold may be present, but why does it never reach our fire?
Years of memories to remember
No matter the jealousy, battles, and mental wrongs, the journey to the top of the mountain is nearing to the peak.
Why do we need to stick as opposite friends or ions?
When the time is urgent, our bond is the most dire.
A mad man, a childish man, and vivid woman
The winter is our friend
To burn our fires, on the coldest night in our town in December.
A poem describing my love of Warden, Frogg and I, using the visual of a walk downtown in the winter. This picture isn't my property!