Cabin Fever

May 10, 2025 In

Unpublished

Cabin fever now surrounds me.
Through the silver aspen grove.
In search of peace these hills I wander.
As of now, as in days of old.

Her face so fair, I still remember.
Wanting that which could not be.
The ideal love, moments of freedom
which come and go like the words I sing.

For love is deep. Love is troubled.
Love it grows and love it fades.
Soapstone gifts carved in verses.
Fields so brown in need of rain.

From the north the wind it quivers
through the garden to my door.
Rough cut pine for my ceiling.
Waiting to hear from you once more.

Words & music by Larry Long

Larry’s music is available on Apple Music, Amazon, Spotify, Bandcamp and select e-tailers