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Laura Gibson

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Laura Gibson

Wintering

in the coming days
i may take to flight
circling the trees
like a bird bound south
always fall back down
on my lazy wings
to the frozen ground
to my apathy

just as sure as the days go short
somehow we're always waiting

in the coming days
don't you be surprised
if i hibernate
if i hide my eyes
if you find me down
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some dark hideaway
we could wait around
could watch the shadows change

and just as sure as the days grow short
somehow we're always waiting

so i may call you up
and i may be inclined
to get drunk on words
to be short on time

and just as sure as the days grow short
somehow we're always waiting