By: Ellen Wang

As we sat, on winter’s day,

Watched the branches as they swayed.

Hear the wind, soft but clear,

As the dusk comes growing near.

Soon, we stand, our backs to sea,

Thinking bout what we can be.

Through the light, and through the dark,

All until the final spark.

All that comes makes all in vain,

Sitting on that moonlit train.

Fleeting dusk, and fleeting dawn,

Never see where time has gone.

As we sat, on winter’s day,

Watched the branches as they swayed.