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
