Seasons

What I remember is
The way you’d kiss the water
Just before you’d dive below the surface.
Summertime, the kids away at camp, while
You and I discover who we are without them.

What I remember is
The way you’d keep on wearing sandals
Even though the temperatures are dropping.
Autumn, apple-picking, lesson-planning
As we snuggle closer in the cooling nights.

What I remember is
The way you’d catch a snowflake on your tongue
As you’d step outside our home and make your way to work.
Wintertime, when you are free from overheated torment and
Together, we explore the simple pleasures of life’s dailyness.

What I remember is
The way you died, your last in-breath
Before the letting go, and then, incredibly, you smile.
Springtime, gentle months, the daylight lengthening
And I, to face the turning of the years without you.