Seasons

Some people are meant to drift in and out of our lives periodically...Knowing that is one thing. Dealing with it is another...

Thursday morning all alone,
you were here but now you're gone.

October comes but once a year.
October comes without you here.

Bare feet on a cold tile floor,
let out a sigh and yawn once more.

Days pass by and so do weeks.
Months pass by and then we speak.

You talk to me and all slows down.
You talk to me and my heart pounds.

You take my hand. We take a walk.
We talk for hours. You like to talk.

Night falls and I wish you'd stay.
Morning comes and you've gone away.

Thursday morning all alone,
You were here but now you've gone.