A young man once told me
On a wintry and colourful day
“We should do that together,
Yes, one day we will”
The days and the weeks and the months
Passed quietly hoping.
The snow turned to rain,
The ice to roaring rivers.
Then on a warm night he took me aside,
Looking at me with his brown eyes.
His hand held my cheek as he said;
“Time has run out. There are no more days”
The days and the weeks and the months passed
All was solemn and still.
Only his words stung like nettles,
In the darkness of this realm.