This human loneliness… the confidant of our lifeFrom birth to death she’ll diligently thrive
The one by whom we never are forsakenWhose sticky loyalty is frightfully unshaken
The rising sun wets brushes in the dewAnd paints the morning sky in gorgeous hueA lark up on a tree forgets himself in singingThe scent of pines awakes in me the inklingThat this will be a day of yellow, and not of blue.