Transitory Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

And what future planned begets
What the past have ceased to forge?
We are blind past the sea of regrets,
And in full vision with our hearts gorged.

So, this, she will be someone else’s,
And there is nothing left in the Summer’s hair –
Perhaps there was nothing here but short verses
Of the love that was lost in the winter’s lair.

There, the cold wind blows,
But does not cede to tell the tale
The dissipations of the winter snow
That heads into the body of the valiant and the frail

And so she will be someone else’s,
And thou shall carry hopes and dreams, chagrined in hearses.