linda m crate

at the library 

the open window

at the library

invited in the fragrant

scent of spring 

flowers,

the sun sang bright

and birdsong nested in my ears;

i couldn't help but smile

as i got lost behind

the pages of 

a book—

we can't spend forever

in one moment,

but sometimes i go back to that one

when i need a pick me up on

a rough day.

 

could always count on you for adventure

through the open window

you serenaded me with "linda, linda"

and it always made me smile,

could always count on you to add a

little fun or life into a day

that otherwise had no adventure;

i miss you but i know it's my fault

we no longer speak—

i am sorry for that and for hurting you,

and if every white rose and pink sunset

were apology enough i would give

them all to you;

for there are so many things i wish

i could share with you—

sometimes i wonder if there 

will always been moons and oceans

parting us, and if were ever to

know one another again;

would i still be one of your favorites?

an inner fire

through the open window

a cold breeze danced through

helping cool down the house,

from the harsh hand of summer

and all of her heat;

i like swimming and boat rides

but the ferocious and overwhelming

song of summer and all of her heat

will never be my favorite—

i do not need such heat when i

carry an inner fire that always keeps

me warm.