How soon you became yesterday,
Crumpling under a pile of tomorrow,
Your dying voice gasping for breath
Choking below my islands of fancy.
Once you too were full of my life,
A hopeful wisp in a summer breeze
But seasons do not wait for love
We could not weather that winter.
The winds whip yet I stay calm,
Packing all the little pieces we left,
For I know how to record things,
And simply store them away.