The mornings are cold
Up the stairs, over the bridge
Two streetkids asleep
The mornings are cold
Up the stairs, over the bridge
Two streetkids asleep
It was quite a sight
The sound they made, the marbles
scattered on the floor
Bound by loyalty
The forty-seven ronin
Samurai legend
Abandoned temple
Trees and plants have taken root
Reclaimed by nature
Rising in the East
Peaks high above our heads
Setting in the West
Carefully picked spot
Cat sleeping in the garden
Caressed by the Sun
Bright lights can be seen
In a puddle on the street
As people rush by
Days of early Spring
Glorious bright sunny skies —
Cold, crisp breeze lingers
Driving alone
Listening to jazz
Night in the city
Solitude
It can be soothing —
Or sorrowful