Farewell My Love

Footsteps through a garden of trees
fade through my memory as I touch
the splintered wood of the railing
that he first sat me on to tell me
he loved me.

I can still hear the faint rustling
of leaves underneath his shoes
as he scuffed away the remnants
of things were beginning to change.
Dark greens, golds, oranges, and browns
fell closer to the ground
and onto our soft, cold skin.

As I sat upon that old, weathered railing
he touched his slightly-chapped lips
to mine.

The ice in my lungs was almost unbearable
as he put his hands upon my waist
and made me feel as though
I was strong enough to fly among the stars.

Those footsteps, dancing among
rustling leaves and through the bitter cold air,
sway in and out of my mind as I remember
the smooth touch of his hand on my back.

Through the stitches of my sweatshirt,
I could feel his hand trembling from the cold,
so I brought him closer to hold me.
I never wanted to let go.

And for the last time, I touch these rugged trees
I recall him blowing kisses to me from afar.
He always knew how to make me smile.

Now I long for one last kiss as I shuffle
across the ground where we would lay
and watch the sky fall.

He would smile at me and kiss me
on my crinkled nose while I held
the hand I never thought would let go.

I would wonder what was scrambled
behind his deep blues and kiss him
one last time;
Only so I would know that
it was goodbye.