The first day of the rest of our life
For which with you the best summing up
Is pain, joy, love, a little strife
But love always anyway – you’re nice
I don’t need being told that twice.
This is the first Spring I remember
I don’t feel hope. You died in spring
And surely that one kept an ember...
And now the gold and mauve and pink
Of sunset fades and darkness falls
And evening crowds and then we think...
