Sign my yearbook
and leave a message about how we loved;
how we journeyed through the slow unassuming
change of seasons.
In December I came to rest my head on your pillow,
used your body to keep me warm because
winter was too cold.
We laid down the soil for flowers to bloom in spring;
our garden would grow out of love.
So in the summer we feasted off the harvest.
I once thought all was lost
but by the time the air cleared and the leaves
changed, I knew what true love felt like.
