I am waiting
For your scrape with death
Perhaps it will promote
Peaceful, common rest
Perhaps an autumn chill
Will soon be in your path
And end your summer years
And put them in the past
A valid scrape with death
Could bring us common ground
And fill this canyon ours
And turn this all around
But, I have to wait
Cannot discard my knowings
When you are summer flower
And I am winter snowings
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