I Surely Do

It’s spring.
Leaves sprout, unfold, unfurl;
You are born;
You broke the mold,
They say.
You think so, too.
Spring turns to summer.
Leaves turn from
Pale green to bright green;
They call you a green horn;
But from youth
You will soon be shorn,
Growing up, growing out,
Taking it all in
Believing life is ever “I win,” then
From summer, inevitably, fall
Green to yellow and then blood-red;
Sorrows — there are no barred holds.
Loved ones dead.
Vulnerable to all — your life begins to fold.
You learn you didn’t break
The mold;
Your genes begin to haunt
You from ancestors of old;
Winter arrives,
First snow, always a surprise,
Things in life — likewise.
And then the bone chilling cold
Stays and stays.
Leaves curl, furl and fall
And nothing stays
Including you.
You now know that;
You leave in peace
Having said, “Please forgive me.
I forgive you. I love you.
I surely do.”

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