Love’s Labor Day lost

Looking for my lost gypsy Queen

From fairy tales

I left dying upon sun-drenched ridges

In a time when summer still lasted

beyond the armed gates of Labor Day

and the radio played

long into starlit nights

with crickets playing backup

When a few years distant

this the hour I retire

I strained to break the bonds

set by possessions

To find a way back to this place

where shadows dance

and echoes fall

and rest on a river that still flows

The same waters

because it never stood still

Though years and miles passed between

Like I’ve never left

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