O uneasy memories,
Wind breezing through the trees;
Lonely times again are here,
I thought you'd care.
Love is like a growing breeze,
Some get lost others it frees;
I see your past everywhere,
Wounding like a spear.
I won't beg and I won't please,
Even try to make up peace;
Even though you were quite dear,
Through our loving years.
Peter S. Quinn
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/38-ffrom-what-s-really-happening-in-54-numbers/
