I loved you across a lifetime
You draped the night about my shoulders
Called me love
The the North wind came
Blew you away,
But still I loved you
You returned one balmy indian night,
Your foot fell with dusk,
And your amber eyes said sorry.
We sat on the bench,
Under the oak tree.
Expressions spoke not words,
Silence like the stars above.
You left with the first snow of winter
Kissed patterns on my window,
Your breath all that you left.
But I still hope on summer evenings,
That like the swallow you will return,
And we will sit, and laugh, and love
Under the sad oak tree.

Debs Turner