I could have kissed you under cherry blossoms, pale petals drifting down like the trees wanted to pretend they could be snowclouds. I could have kissed you in the rain, drenched to our bones and not even caring that the skies opened up above us and tried to wash us out. I could have kissed you in a clearing in the most secluded woods, with just the sound of wind rustling through the leaves and a few voyeuristic finches peeping at us.
don't worry, nobody has the beautiful lady, not really, and
[previous] [next] [more by this author] [home] Variation On the Word Sleep Margaret Atwood
Though I am young, and cannot tell
Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep is a poem written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye .