(no subject)

here. I wrote you a poem:

hover, and swing
hover, and swing

the sun swings again across the equator to 
hover, breathless in the heat of summer
we wait to exhale and then
we are tumbling down, across the shortening days
swinging across the equator again
to hover, cold and shivering in the dark 
we band together, candles lit, singing
to call again to spring
the lengthening days, the warming sun, the long inhale
the fast swing across the equinox and then we come again

to hover
and swing