the sun, the clouds. The birds
fly south. The ocean tide recedes
from the shore. Crimson leaves

break off from the trees and circle
in the wind. The butterfly does
her mating dance again and

again then waltzes off like so many
men. Children grow up and leave
home. Friends divorce and move

on too.  Only a dead body
lies still. And still,  I can't find
the will to move on from you.