Number Fifteen Sara Teasdale

Why should I care about rain and or snow, About your green leaves that were silver and gold. Or on a bush on that hill that will never be seen! Or all of the trees that you climbed as a kid, But summer was ours by the sea. But lovely my dear, I really cared, I confess to you that I did. Taken from me as a leaf caught up tossed around in the wind, And trapped in a wave, a wave none could see. There we once we're and now we're both here, Quite, Silent and still, lost in our love and at peace. James McLain Saturday, October 28, 2017