Winter.

Seeing you again,

On a cold day in May,

I felt a sense of loss.

Had I acted rashly,

Not thinking of love enduring

Not counting the cost?

Were those thoughts

That once lifted our spirits

Weaker than the ones

Dragging us down,

Knowing we will age disgracefully

Beset by forgetfulness,

Ill-health and poverty,

The dreams of our youth

Having flown South

For the winter?

As we spoke I knew you felt it too.

We had arrived at the same place,

After choosing different paths,

Where the ghost of what-could-have-been

Leaves deep footprints in snow.

We said our goodbyes,

Promising to keep in touch,

Knowing this was unlikely

As we reminded each other too much

Of life's brevity

And how chances not taken

Slip away as the blood thickens,

As the brain fades,

Forsaking the thrill of possible futures

For the familiarity of distant pasts,

All as empty as air.