ever do the faded leaves
roll, tossed by winter's winds
traversing lawns,
as under darkened skies
crocus gardens shutter closed
and songbirds shriek,
but you returned;
you let me hold your clouds
that swirl and storm,
and as I stretch
my folded wings,
so useless
while you were gone,
I pull you softly close
to hold your tempests calm,
and in the instant
as you find your rest in me,
there comes a peace--
together,
we are
gently strong.
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