was here and now,
so many worlds ago,
and I was only twenty then
and you were twenty four,
we wandered down the shaded roads
far from the sound of towns.
We wandered hand held tight in hand,
the dust of April on our shoes,
and there were many, many things
just ours alone to choose...
the briar rose, the robin's song, the killdeer's moon... and more.
But I was only twenty then,
and you were that and four.
The hurried years have raced along
and we are years apart.
The worlds within the worlds without
milled fine our foolish hearts,
and both our lives will soon be dust,
and now there's naught to choose,
though briars bloom and robins call
and killdeers sing
a new Spring moon.