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: http://learebeccakarlsen.blogspot.com/2011/11/poppy-flowers-from-my-sisters-golden.html