The softness of the breeze, gently cooled his sun warmed skin.
After so many rainy days, waiting for, the summer to begin.
The heat wasn't remarkable, but it chased away his memory of the cold.
The winter had been bitter, and he felt it more each year as he grew old.
But there was something in the summer morning kiss, something different, on that day.
As he sat and reminisced, on another summers morning in mid May.
He remembered walking slowly through the meadows, last summer, holding hands.
And he thought about the happiness and laughter, their dreams, their hopes, their plans.
The winter had been wicked, the frost was heavy, on the day she walked away.
He'd begged and he had pleaded: my darling, won't you stay?
His words fell on deaf ears, there was another, who he did not know about.
Though she had told him that she needed space, that's why, she said, that she was moving out.
January had been bitter, February, had been an angry time.
The loneliness of March, had almost been enough, to steal his fragile mind.
April washed away his tears, the pain, receding every day.
Now he healed beneath a blue sky, on a sunny summers morning, in mid May.
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