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I miss the cold and the snow. 

I miss the sun where the moon used to go.

I miss the clothes I used to wear.  I can’t catch my breath in the warm Florida air.


I put all my paint on one pallet.

My brushes they all up and broke.

I just thought that I could ask ya.

Can I come back, Alaska?


Here I am painting by this park. 

Where’s McKinley?  I miss the daytime dark.

My melting promise is my choice. 

If I come back, I won’t raise my voice.


And if I never see your face again,

I’ll close my eyes and paint your silly grin,

and dream that I am lying in your bed

where it’s cool and dry, but this humidity instead…

© Audsongs 2016

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