Whispering warm, soft thoughts,
The dying summer night gives way to chilly dawn,
A child's toy left lying in the yard,
Damp with the dew that’s sprinkled on the lawn.
And life goes on though people die
And leaves fall thick along the walk.
Who cares who's gone as long as I
Remain to talk and talk and talk?
Beneath the pristine blanket of the snow,
The purity of death is all that we can know
Until we rise renewed from archived files,
As lurkers read our words with patronizing smiles.