kruczynski

sure I'll take your picture
and I'll cherish your petals
and your colour
like the last hours
of daylight
like the echoes of gold
that fill the city in August
and softly turn to pink
I'll suffer the rain and
the fire of youth
For you
I would suffer cold
and violent winds,
and when the petals have fallen
I will love you
in the winter
as I have loved you
in the spring