On the cold bridge of grey stones
|
Stood the old man in his grey robe
|
Opening his oak barrels
|
Pouring them to the river
|
|
So began the pouring
|
Light frozen
|
Down snowing
|
|
Light was weakening
|
Grey was the curtain
|
Wide were the shores
|
Of the grey and green seas
|
It was final
|
|
-----------------
|
Pouring
|
| Skepticism |
