A fleeting window found me
insisting I attend it.
That forgotten open sash
the broken pane a portal
to torrential rains.
Sweeping through
in gusts of memory:
Flashing glimpses finding us
writting down
on tiny scraps of paper,
little pieces of our souls
and giving them away
to one another.
We wore them fondly, briefly
secretly around our hearts adorned.
Lockets lined with laurel leaves
protecting us from seeing
summers sorrows so soon spent.
Till like the storm and leaves
time passes and we are warmed again
by the kindness of the sun.