Grieves my soul,
Haunts me
With arpeggio notes.
Everything beautiful is sad,
Gilded with impermanence.
As wood into the furnace,
This yearly occurrence
Always leaves me wordless…
I’m afraid, so afraid,
This will be a winter too desolate
Without precedent,
And only memory
Fill the emptiness.
Be my earth—be my sky;
Someday we must die
And I want our dust to mingle,
But for now, Love,
Be the bed of sparks
I breathe upon and kindle.