You leave
as the snow
begins
to fall.
I watch your back
as you walk,
further
and further
away
from me.
A snowflake
brushes my cheek
as softly
as the brush
of a finger tip.
It reminds
me
of you.
Maybe,
you'll return
next
December.
I'll look
for you,
when the snow
falls
once
again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sad, but not without hope. T