She gets a haircut every June
On a kitchen chair
Last year it couldnât come too soon
Now she couldnât care
Her mind is otherwise occupied
She sits cross-legged on the floor
In an A-line skirt
But sheâd make a beeline for the door
If it was up to her
When the autumn leaves
Then the winter settles in
And sometimes it seems
As though that overcoatâs her second skin
She often speaks so softly
She sends me to sleep
Sheâs the opposite of coffee
Sheâs the last thing I need first thing in the morning
When the autumn leaves
Then the winter settles in
And sometimes it seems
As though that overcoatâs her second skin
Everything she says ends softer than it starts
So few of her sentences end in exclamation marks
She starts talking, I start yawning
Sheâs the last thing I need first thing in the morning
- :
- First Frost
- Warmer Corners
- Naturaliste
- Where Were We?
- Staring At The Sky
- Happy Secret
- What Bird Is That?
- The Green Bicycle Case
- Boondoggle
- Miscellaneous
- A Good Kind Of Nervous
- First Tape
- Spring a Leak
- Get-to-Bed Birds
- The Matinée Grand Prix
- Cartography for Beginners
- Midweek Midmorning
- T-Shirt Weather
- A Boy, a Girl, and a Rendezvous
- Romantic and Square Is Hip and Aware: A Matinée Tribute...