was it not enough, to
muddy boots outside door
wind rifling through hair
yours is so long now
gust teasing out
new greys
like our hands did once
was it not enough, to
breathing honeysuckles
with eyes closed
inhale silent memory
was it not enough, to
showing one another
the year's growth ring
we are still here
a remark between crow's feet
deepened
since last conversation
between our eyes
when they cut us down
they will see the hardened lines
but will never see this softness
was it not enough, to
go another year?
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