“Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, Or what’s a heaven for?”
I started listening to the wolves and the timber, wolves and the timber at night…
I wake in the field with the cold and the lonesome—the moon’s the only face I see
So long, so high….
...Everything I used to be came raining down on top of me..
I wait too long for you to come home
Excuse me, are you lost? Perhaps you would care to visit the site map