I like people who stay


I like people who stay, he said,

together we stood watching the white laced winter trees

and because of his words I found it hard to leave.

he took me along the damaged paths of his youth,

passed the decayed orchards, delicate streams,

in front of a old wrecked building he stopped

and sneaked a peek through the window of his first love

hesitant a summer presented itself in his voice

and I saw he was gone for a while