I watched you grow strong
I reached out; with my right hand,
Felt your left shoulder.
I felt you touch me,
Take hold of my left shoulder.
I still feel you there.
I heard what you said,
And watched your words fly away.
I knew you heard me.
Now my words have gone,
Wrapped in the words of others,
But not completely.
Fitting for the end
Of a year–of all those days
Now behinds us. Gone.
More spring than winter
Because it is next of love,
More than first of year.
Every day takes me
In, and out, of everything.
I never doubt it.
And brings a lot more
Than it takes away from me.
It leaves me with love.
Except at the last.
One day, it will either give–
Or take everything.
I
love everything
about it, exept
for they who would destroy
it or they who first would make it mad.
Must I such things know?
Or in this would it be best?
Shall I know better?
Shall next I learn that
There is so much more to know
Than at first I thought?
So many layers
Can be placed in each other
How many can I?
David Emeron: Sonnets 