Sometimes In Winter

I think of the warm yellow sand and green butterflies
under our feet the river swirled and sang little songs
in little emerald pools. Your eyes glimmered with desire.
That afternoon I buried a part of me under the dunes.

Then I saw you at the alpine lake one last time
I remember the scent of lilacs and of your words
under the starlit skies, the world fell utterly silent
I have never been good with words anyway.

There are scars of loss, pain and of memories
but there are somethings that I would never lose
your song still hangs in the moonlit shadows
and sometimes in winter I fall asleep listening to it