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