seeing the snow patches on the ground
later and later as the sun beats down
I cannot name my sharp regret
I almost wish I'd never met
the snowlace coming down.
how chill, prosaic seems the day
with further melting I can't stay
and witness the last retreats;
loveliness again has passed
leaving me to sadly ask
how many more times in one lifetime
must the beautiful vanish away
mary angela douglas 20 may 2023
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