The colder winds bellowed at dusk and still
A newer moon enlightenes this old path,
As fabric fleeting, slipping from my grasp
In signs I'd read all through the day, a thrill!
My thoughts are with new friends, in from the wrath
One road to wander forth, ahead to clasp
By threshold crossed and bathed in fiery wills
A promise here of future brightly rasps,
Upon the door one road behind still hath.
The sun of winter beckons on my mind
In trees and open spaces, free by grace,
A touch of frost upon my lips embrace
But change has come Woburn! It has defined
All men who ran and won or lost entwined.
Author notes
I have not done one of these in a bit. I lost the election.
But see much promise in the new connections I have made
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