Winters past

Back in the day of chilblains
           when all things froze
when my hands
           shook with the cold
The swirl and flicker of snow
           around the street lamps
the softness
           of our footfalls
as we trudged
           through the streets

Back in the days
           of innocence
before experience
           and knowledge blew away
the mystery of life
           the life that lay
before me
           the life that lies
before me
           the life in which
nothing but love
           makes any sense

This is what I struggle
           to say
I the lover I struggle
           to be

John Lyons