Thursday, 16 April 2009
Exactly ten years ago my husband and I shared our last spring. That's why I thought the following poem so true.
It was a night of early spring,
The winter-sleep was scarcely broken;
Around us shadows of the wind
Listened for what was never spoken.
Though half a score of years are gone,
Spring comes as sharply now as then-
But if we had it all to do
It would be done the same again.
It was a spring that never came;
But we have lived enough to know
That what we never have, remains;
It is the things we have, that go.
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