When does Winter's heart thaw?
Does one morning tell you, in confidence,
Though last night was still the realm of ice,
The Sun will be back today, so rejoice?
Will that moment come when loss has become gain;
Or, perhaps, a mild wisdom, something we
Can keep in a box in the attic,
Waiting for the day we decide to search?
Time seems to have deceived us
Passing slowly, while we watch, then, when we glance
Away, darting around the corner, making his escape;
Leaving us behind again, as so often before.
Fools of happenstance that we are, we
Hope again and again to have only what we desire,
But the baggage comes with the prize, and
Loss is the last answer on every last page.
