Darling, Have You Seen the Buds in May?

Time is slipping,

shipping away glorious moments

And I can see the lights, I can smell the buds

Of last May, when my friends all gathered under the

Tipsy umbrella, wobbling in the breeze. They

Looked so happy – groups of chatter and passionate debate and –


Now the lawn is overgrown

Empty chairs lie water-soaked, abandoned next to

Wilting flowers. All my friends are gone.

and I can hear the quiver of the wire fence against the wind.




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