Hold on tight

I hear those kite-strings

can tangle in the

wind if you let them

fly too close.

 

I wish there had been a way

I could have warned you, maybe

if I was there for the fall,

your face would not be touched with

that sadness.

 

I would have shown you,

every day, what flowers could

bloom simply,

pure and free

on the heath

 

but you have a past;

I’ve got mine too,

and I’m living this present

with all I’ve got.

I know I’ll survive the weather this Winter brings.