The Wind Through the Window

The open window whisper sings a chill to me
turning, I greet the crispness of it

"Hello,old friend! 

Welcome back, forgive me for being unaware. 

I guess I should have felt you.....

coming"

Memories than flow and I
cry freely, fully
bittersweet acknowledgment of things that
were
and never were
and simply should have not been, yet
indeed ......were

The cycles, the seasons
blow the blustery
brilliance of crisp sorrow,
joy and recollection back to us
when we least expect it.....
thankfully

For in these moments of
beautiful
un-awareness
we become so aware that we
......................cry