Wither And Bloom

Love is last summer, when I truly
believed. Rose up, bits of shell
scattering over the grass. A smile
forever played on my lips, and tears
became unknown. Yes, love is last
summer when my eyes shut out
the flaws to protect happiness.

Truth is now my eyes can see.
Summer fades under the icy cold,
and the sheep huddle together for
warmth, casting the wolves out into
the snow with only each other.
Truth is the tears and the pain. Hope
is walking away, knowing the ice
will thaw, and flowers will emerge.