The tears never fell
Like they did that day,
Slow at first
Like first morning breaths
Puff puffing through your chest
like wind through the waking grass
soft with dew
whispering
so as not to disturb
the frozen calm of the day beginning
an untouched ice rink
intricately line-less
until skates
filled with wobbles and laughter,
falls and clutched hands
gradually cover the whole white sheet with scratches
as a summer rain
warm like frozen berries
splatters the ground
a monochromatic Jackson Pollock
until the streets, walkways, and gardens
swell to richer shades
shadows of what they once were
as the sky cries mourning breaths
and as your body remembers
What it’s like to yearn