Saturday, February 27, 2021
Winter’s roots have sprung.
Winter’s storm begone.
Under new suns we’ll run,
And dance for each driver—it’s fun.
To songs of our past, how come?
To thank each artist who’ve done,
The unthinkable creations for us.
Now be with our rock from dusk,
To dawn it’s a Snow Moon of trust.
And beauty of light by night,
Bringing day roots of each chilling fight.
Our coldest of this life ignites,
The futures we’ve always seen bright.