Swirling a sweven softly lands
like a Smew in my unsuspected lap
singing a sorrowful song of the Sami
of two-dog nights and squall
of vanishing food and species.
Swirling a sweven softly lands
like a Smew in my unsuspected lap
singing a sorrowful song of the Sami
of two-dog nights and squall
of vanishing food and species.
