Winterend
Let me in to your lamentation,
The song of snowmelt in your sigh.
Cold rain falls soft on cherry blossoms,
Early this year, or late for your epiphany.
An exhalation, beautiful as blood,
Scenery washed by sunrise.
A time to mourn, a time to dance,
A time between the never and the now.
We were older then, and we forgot:
Our eyes half-met, our fingers barely touched.
The river knows, and keeps her secrets.
The blackbird singing in the ivy,
Remember, oh, remember me.