EIGHT MONTH ROMANCE

Nothing remains where once grew plenty,
Grey is this season alone in my thoughts,
Of all I had cherished, nurtured and lost,
Reaping my cold winters crop of disdain.

No more late summer of haunting memory,
When you shined through me like the sun above,
Lighting my soul with your warming love,
A long sought promise that grew out of spring.

Did I not share with you my everything,
In passion my secrets, my weakness and more,
To grow love I carefully and recklessly swore,
Pooring out for you what for myself I had stored.

Back when you ran through the grass by the river,
Wild flowers laced through hair behind an ear,
A smile full of laughter and a teasing eye,
You took away my fear beneath the clear blue sky.

Now I look back over the seasons passed,
The summers full swell into falls brief last,
To this early winter blowing through my door,
Where you left it open, long gone, never more.