Grief Poem by Grace Moore Kimata
Grief
Through my window pane
I watch the winter go,
I see the falling snow
Turn into rain.
Through the shining glass
The lilac buds anew,
A smiling sun breaks through
Where gray clouds pass.
Over land and sea,
Across the rolling hills,
Through fields of daffodils
She comes to me --
A spring I never knew,
Spring bright with blooming bough
But not the same somehow,
Spring without you!
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4/23/2024 1:19:44 AM # 1.0.0.1119
