Meet me at the bridge come next Spring
after snows with frigid air pass,
birds on a wing begin to sing,
when her season brings fresh green grass.
With vapored breath we bid adieu
to Winter's belting bitter bite;
although I loved being with you
kissing you on cold, freezing nights
it's time for us to say goodbye
only until cycles will bring ...
so ... til weeks and months multiply
meet me at the bridge come next Spring.
Done for a Contest with a beautiful pure winter scene of snow and filigreed Pine.
