The leaves change color, and spiral to earth,
Yet still I wait for your most dear penned words.
Those elegant shapes, carved with sacred ink,
To stain our future, for better or worse.
The snow drifts now come, the crows crow no more,
A white blanket covers all remnants of fall,
I inquire in town, I inquire of you
Yet still no letter arrives in my hall.
Spring bloom is here, correspondence amiss
Where is your love? Where is it, I ask?
Must I search so desperately long and hard
To unearth this season's deceptive mask?
The sun shines brightly on summer's cracked plain,
The spring of hope dry in my emotional core,
How do I nourish this drought ridden heart?
And just then an envelope slips through my door.