To keep it
If I could paint
I'd paint the way
light filled
the orchard last May
and blossoms fell
like flecks of snow
speckling the trees
and us below
with petals on
our picnic spread
beneath the pear trees
breaking bread
one of us gathering
bluebells, while
swallows overhead
unstitched the skies.
Now it is fall
we're worlds apart
trying to change
the past to art.
(c) Copyright 1999. The Christian Science Publishing Society