the Sing.
The ruts in the road
are deep
and frozen.
The wheels of the wagon
have a song of their own.
I sit in the back of the wagon
in a nest made of blankets.
I listen to the song
of the rolling wagon wheels.
the Sing.
The ruts in the road
are deep
and frozen.
The wheels of the wagon
have a song of their own.
I sit in the back of the wagon
in a nest made of blankets.
I listen to the song
of the rolling wagon wheels.