Here's to the feel
Of the air so brisk
That felt on me
When winter was here
And mine was yours.
Here's to never knowing
When we did,
That nothing's unending,
Even if you care.
So,
For all that cannot be rebuilt,
Or
Traversed through again,
Memories keep in store
The pieces from which
Broken visions form a dream,
And
Countless seconds
Are called a year.
