Lately I’ve pictured you the way you left:
warm, the sun resting against your shoulders,
summer gleamed in your smile and made me
forget what it felt like to be cold.

I can’t help but wonder, though,
how your smile would look in the fall,
or what your hand would feel like
as we walk through crunchy leaves.

I keep thinking about what your lips
would taste like after sips of hot chocolate,
or how your laughter would sound while
sliding down a snowy hill on my old, red sled.

It’s spring time, and I wonder what it would
be like if we danced around in the rain,
or how it would feel to set a picnic with you,
our only worry is getting lost in each other.

Summer comes back and I remember
that last morning together, me finally
finding the courage to hold your hand,
with teary goodbyes and a silent “I love you.”

Lately I’ve pictured you the way you left:
warm, the sun resting against your shoulders,
summer gleamed in your smile, and I
forgot what it felt like to be cold.