The Last Seasons
So your there
In Mays mind
around twin oceans
And darkened moon.
I have no cause , misty
in "just" of you.
Hear you living and budding
And Im spring play .
Your seasons away
And a footprint near.
Do you question
winters pain now
with the real
And the Fall winds.
No new days,
Words refuse to flower.
With a fading
the last arrival,
my arrival of truth.
The truth that May
will never come.
Copyright © Joe Curtis | Year Posted 2006
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