Love and Summer

I remember how the days
lengthened into summer
like unfolding arms.
The lush and lull
of deep green
fostered the red
of our love
until it grew ripe;
a sweet apple
waiting to be
bitten.

But the green
has perished down
to a potter's field
of brown leaves,
the lithe song
of married birds
gone up
to skies
of grey
cloud.

I can still feel
the depth
and breadth
of your hands;
stroking skin,
tracing bone,
weaving our
two bodies
together like
tapestry.

Even now,
in this foreign land
of bitter winter,
I am with you.
Our love
flourishes
beneath
skies
of rolling
blue.

For after all,
is that not why
we were granted memory?
So all that is lost,
can be found
again?