I think of her that last, long winter:
How it was supposed to be —
Walking down that lonesome valley
Past the fence, and tree lines —

But you — you never knew her, did you?
Eyes that laughed at simple things,
The ludicrous, the painful (sometimes)
Even getting old —

How many roads within a lifetime:
Steps, missteps, and retraced steps —
The people we love best, but find
We barely knew at all

The sleep that comes the last, long winter,
Blankets clutched unsteadily,
Until the morning, down the road
Across the hill