Winter

You're a yard sale treasure caught in between a fresh start and the s**t
that ripped you up before. You're in love with the milk man and the
paper boy and the girl with hands just big enough to dry your tears, but
she's shy about her soft side and you're shy about most all of yours.
She's got your eyes on the stars as she draws the lines between the
heavens and your footsteps like gossamer dreams you haven't seen in a
decade. It didn't take her much to get you, but it took you a lifetime
to see her come and minutes to see her go. You're a yard sale treasure
making your way around a big city you can't see but from windows worth
freedom and hands worth happiness.