Some Other Springtime

you told me, “echo”
like i had already forgotten before the rising of the sun,
and yet
there in the early morning dew,
you were naught but a shadow,
falling softly from my dying lips

i laid in eager expectation
looking to you for some sort of salvation,
but you fell from eyes,
and while my gaze was locked in your direction,
i did not see the seasons pass me by

i guess i should have known,
that love in all its myriad forms would keep her sweetness,
and that all seasons might welcome me,
but only to leave a taste upon my lips never quite sated in the end

when love cast me out to gaze upon that broken, beautiful face,
it was cruelty that welcomed me, and warmed me at her fire

and as the seasons pass with broken comfort,
brought on by the adding of age,
the bloodflowers bloom a darker hue than once they did,
some other springtime

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