Once we ran through the park in
autumn, dancing through showers
of crimson leaves and acorn hail.
I tried to kiss you but you only
laughed, then took my hand
and we ran again. I followed
you everywhere you led, for
my heart was none but yours.
But love went away, and my
heart now rests in winter’s
hibernation, wondering if
you will be there again when
the crocus begins to bloom.