by Ellen Saunders
Spring to Spring
Through seasons passing spring to spring
with diligence I tried to love you more.
In sultry days all I could bring
were wilted summer flowers to your door;
a dying bouquet that once was new
and fresh as a day arising from night,
a time I'd lie entwined with you
and watch the window turn from dark to light.
But here we are in the late of fall
counting the days that shrink and hide
as leaves turn to brown while I recall
their shade in summer before they died
and still I cannot love you anymore
than I did when winter came before.
-originally appeared in The Lyric