top of page
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
bottom of page