Foxglove

the breeze blows
gentle and soft
with her
whisper
in the
lilacs of
soft spring
memories.

love had to
have been
a
wash of strawberries
and finely chilled water pressed
against skin ;
sweating of regret
and
finding resolve
under the shade
of simple promise.

oh
to shed
sorrow
and bathe in
the warmth of your
embrace.....

you were
never
so far
from home ;
not even
in the coldest
of nights laying on the
hard
floor.

All around
you
are things I
fear your
eyes
will never see.

I was just
like you.