So, my path is freckled
with forgotten snow, and
I'm humming this song
....about the ugliness
of St. Louis as I walk
with the sun riding on
my back like a child
...and it feels so warm
that I wonder how this
snow has even lasted
and is it sorry
...to be melting?
the man behind the sun
asks me for favors, I
would never answer him,
...but he can tell by
the look in my eye
that I'm in, I look up
and squint so I look
...off to the side and
smile and I walk
on like he tells me like
I'm not carrying
...a single thing
but the shadow
of the trouble
...that can't be won.
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