by B.L. Redetzke

gaze thee down upon my hand
digits numbering five
i wished for seasons as many
our love would thrive
alas, it did not
what had been
shall never be again
what could be
we shall never see
i pray thee, sir
look into my eyes
once blue with color
now blue with sorrow
from which my heart
shall never recover
the sky above
the green that grows
shall never know pain
such as your love

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A love poem, 8 September 1999