When February thaws before its time
I Hear spring peepers in far off woods
Bees come out in search of nectar
And the false spring withholds its goods
Dead leaves turn cartwheels in barren fields
Gray grass bends in the breeze
Sun flirts behind the clouds
But the sun has always been a tease
Blackthorne Winter go back where you came from
some southern stream in the northern skies
Blackthorne Winter bite your tongue
Don’t tell me no more lies
I’ve seen summers like this full of promise
Gold tongued whispers never last
Snow returns, heavy and jaded
A melancholy spirit from the past
Saint Teresa, Saint John
In the velvet season of fickle length
Help me remember in the whippoorwill winter
This brief imitation of strength
Anna Arobas makes intricate, otherworldly folk-pop with delicate, glacial arrangements but a howl of heartbreak at the center. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 11, 2022