Her Style

It’s been two years since I've seen her And I still remember Every day we spent together How she came in as a wild fiery storm And how she left as softly as the wind That’s what she did It was her style I have always asked about her When I’ve seen her friends that knew her Trying to find if she was laughing Intensely wishing she was missing me Just a little bit It was a foolish thought to think But somewhere deep inside I knew It was her style Somewhere in the town of Kingston While I sat reciting poetry I ran into a friend we both had known So I asked him if he’d seen her He said yes, a few times recently But he felt the fire in her eyes Had darkened and gone dry Those were not the words I looked for Those were not the words I wanted I had always wished that someday she’d return Always knowing somewhere deep She wouldn’t be back again I always knew I wasn’t her style