Late Spring

We come then go

You think you’ll know

Old ways that passed

Somehow still last

What was wanted

Now feels haunted

What we wished

Passed up bliss

Love falls tossed

In fire and frost

What we have left

Feels strange, bereft

That we’ll win

Tastes of sin

Plans that grew

Friends we knew

Hopes don’t swell

Even once well

Some get sick

From tiny flicks

It’s best to breathe

Lacking a sleeve

To sense night air

Without tense care

We’ll get through, pass

We’re built to last

But too much lost

So high a cost