Lavender caught on the breeze of your garden. A bench, warmed and swollen holds me in memories of you. Beneath the honeysuckle bathed in the low sunlight of an Autumn afternoon we sit together. Leaves and petals gather below the heaving trellises but, you will not rake today. I return in winter, snow wraps our bench, a present from the season. I stand and beneath the white I glimpse you, buried in the greenness of the garden. You never left, you are still here, where I can always find you.
By ThePoshGurl (HRHardy)