now, frightened by birds and their songs of loss
bones carried like stones in a soft sack of flesh,
2 suitcases carry me home;
an equal mix of fate and defeat had their say
but as i leave my mind is stubborn and
remembers only the harmony of flawless seasons
taking place outside me;
even though the spring keeps coming
i still feel winter, blue smoke air in my lungs,
cold sunshine, blind and pale yellow
like the day we moved in and the truths we found here
are packed away, silent, but
i couldn't leave them behind if i wanted to.

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