Aftermath Poem by Chris Krummenacher

I used to dream of spring
and a lifetime of long June days
I watched you walk away into the warm, whistling wind
Singing with your voice, 'So long'.

I should have stopped you in your tracks,
by the tracks long lost.
I should have realized and spoken these words...
'Take all my tomorrows and give me one more hour tonight.'

I've been walking for so long,
but I've never gotten too far.
Impeded by spring's warm, whistling wind
which caught and carried my life away.

As I gaze into your face - brilliant, blue, and fair.
Words catch and choke as I ask myself again.
How many more steps till I can stop drawing this spring air?