There is a day in every relationship, a make or break day. If 'break' there is no reclaimation;those days make sore memories.
With You
The fields, green with snow
under an apple blue sky;
you, briming
winter's brightness,
turning cartwheels;
your whole body grinning.
The silver trees of our breathing
in full flower;
my golden happiness
in being with you
till the shafts of shadow
turned purple at sunset;
and our hours together
turned colourless at parting.
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