THIS SPRING

I have been thinking about you

and sunny Spring

we never got to share.

Why do you suppose

through our too-few years

we never experienced light,

freedom, warmth

when it was expected of the weather?

Why did storms and frost follow us?

Perhaps we made our own heat.

Our springs and summers were filled

with us - and little else?

Maybe that was it.

Maybe not.

I don�t know why

our past preceded as it did

or why it fell so precipitously

or even where you are right now

but I am thinking about you

as the sun looks down upon me

and you do not.

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