I found the old notes,
and knew I had messed up bad,
it’s worse ’cause I know.
Yes, the bins went out,
they didn’t get it at all,
they just stood waiting.
The sunset later,
then it did last evening ,
and will do again.
The spring is coming,
you can hear its boing, boing, boing,
echoing along.
All the bird love it,
they sing for joy of it’s warmth,
and it’s lighter days.
Well I’ll keep writing,
more and more rubbih like this,
without a real plan.
