Love in Metaphor
Love is a meandering melody.
We drift in a Chagall blue sky
ending up not so far from where we began,
hang on to a final chord fading
into silence, your words echoing,
fireflies in a glass jar.
Love is snow that fell
silently while we slept.
yesterday’s faint outlines--
hedge of junipers, wandering sidewalk,
garden asleep beneath the blanket,
our world, magical, remapped.
And when love ends it will depart like winter
in fits and starts, drifts and squalls
until the door slams shut,
one of us keeps walking
without any intention of turning back.