We have stormy days

When crossing our three ways

We make dramatic weather.

Then it all comes clear.

We laugh and like to be here,

All three together.

Time blows, night comes and goes,

We make good mornings.

We sing and shout.

What were we silent about,

Slamming a door when we went out?

With September sun

Or June sun in the window warm

We do not remember.

We live under star and storm,

Three alone,

Three good weather-makers,

Singers, strivers, wind-wakers.

And we have our own

Kind of holiday

No weatherman could take away.