Seasons pass,

Though I resurrect your smile.

Memories soften.

Time blurs the miles.


Still, a single strand

Of your chestnut hair,

Wide almond eyes–

You’ve “moved through the faire.”


You’ve seeded my furrows,

Short but deep,

Richly brown and fertile

Where tears now seep.


Familiar buds bloom,

While some and more fade.

Still, no weeds creep in among

The grassy halos, warm as jade.


S.A. Bort / 8 June 2014

* above image from: