6 Is Truly 9 Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

I used you,
in the spring;
the smell of flowers,
swirls of pink,
yellow and blue;
April's showers, gone,
so have you;
I am lying, on grass,
preening, seasoning my tines;
celebrating my new life meaning,
taking on a different reflection;
my heart, is frozen,
the sun's warmth has to reach it;
stuck in the cold, it cannot melt,
because you left it, to this end;
I remember our prayer, in the wind,
dancing as the sky settled in;
then it blew, that mondain came too,
took away me, to my will's chagrin;
the perfume of loss, so sweet and soft,
now causes me sadness, in my heart;
never-ending, is this wintery journey,
life, now death pulled inside out;
you changed then, and abandoned me,
be very afraid now, for your life is in doubt.