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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