As mornings cool, I think about your love.
 I didn't know it in your greenest days,
 When warm and young, the year awoke in you,
 A whole new life emerging from the dark,

 Into the spring -- discovery and growth --
 A verdure ready for the summer blaze,
 That brought with it a wilting of desire,
 Even as love began its slow retreat.

 And when I came, the summer still in view,
 The color shift began; the red, the gold, 
 A mist upon the lake of my regard,
 The gift of you, as you revealed yourself --

 And love like none I ever thought I'd know,
 Touched me with colors, setting us

 Aglow

She loves these mornings by the lake
Before the noisy day begins;
When every sip of tea,
And breath she takes,
And secret smile
Are precious

Wins

 follow me into the blue
 away the life we used to live
 like new the harbor shining in
 our eyes once stained
 glass half full
 of dreams

 He was a sailor, she was the sea.
 Theirs was a romance meant to be:
 Long in the harbor waiting kept,
 Restlessly searching, neither slept,

 Waves upon years of motion, churning,
 Seeking the other, reaching, yearning --

 Lines in the harbor tried and failed.
 Few had the heart for where they sailed --
 This took a new kind of bravery:
 He was sailor, she was the sea.

 A thousand breezes
  have I felt,
 And countless wishes
  have I made;
 We only get the
  cards we’re dealt,
 And lose them, as
  each one is played

 But here and now
  is purely fun,
 To slowly open
  and revive —
 A thousand breezes
  have I felt,
 And each one
  makes me feel

  Alive

Autumn winds,
And hills of secrets;
All those years
We wasted —
Each passing rustle a dream
Distant like a cloud

I kissed you on a day like this,
And you kissed me. The sky was perfect,
Blue in its endeavor, and we were as
Tall as the trees, and almost as wise.
November stretched into infinity on that hill,
And our newly doomed love rode the latest
Of a thousand breezes that had passed that way
Before.

 At nine years old, upon a train,
 She looked up from the book she held,
 To see the switchyard where they stood,
 As distant voices swore and yelled,

 While she, a suitcase by her side,
 "The Hundred Dresses" on her lap,
 Was trembling at this big new life,
 In this strange place, so far across

 The map

 An immigrant when young, her accent
 Seemed to shame her daughter;
 Who didn't know the "old country"
 Out there, across the water --

 While down behind the train yards,
 That same daughter's heart was racing
 With a boy she thought a hero, but
 Who saw her as

 A plaything

 My friend, I know he left you young,
 With those two children that you raised;
 I know you miss your mom a lot,
 And realize the trail she blazed

 But so have you, my friend. It's true
 When loved ones go, we feel their lack --
 But though life seems chaotic, we
 All end up on that one same track,

 That leads to where we have to go.
 So many stories none will tell
 About the good we meant to do
 And how "meant well" may not turn out

 That well

 We grew together, all of us, as one,
 Then gradually let go to make our ways
 To love, or jobs, or just what looked like fun
 In those, the loosest, easiest of days.

 But still together, on a common ground,
 We rolled and turned as life's vicissitudes
 Sent us each tumbling over, and around,
 A jumble of disparate attitudes.

 And soon, we looked, each other far away,
 But we'd return, we thought. We always had:
 It's not like night does not conclude with day,
 Or like good times won't come when things get bad -

     But now I see that part of letting go
     Is what we have to leave, if we're to grow

 A path believes
 That where it leads
 Is worth the time
 For going

 And no amount
 Of cover-up
 Can keep its pride
 From showing

 For when we have
 To go, we need,
 A walking way
 (Or driving)

 And getting there
 Can often be
 The best part of
 Arriving