By Galadrial
Date: 2002 Oct 28
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[[2002.10.28.09.31.2419]]

seasons



When there is a we,
it comes in seasons,
small talk shared by hearts
scorched by an arrid time,
waiting
wishing
wanting more than what is.

Seasons pass,
and I know their time,
growth and plenty
and then the sleeping time,
when words fall silent.

Perhaps one day
there will be a reason
to hear the heart
held now is soft stasis.

But for now, it is autumn,
and the trees are winding down,
losing their reasons
to dance in the wind,
and I am waiting
for the season to turn again.