Spring

Walking through the park 

Leaves rustling as I walk 

It's a warm winter morning

Not warm enough though

An empty bench in the corner

Covered with leaves of amber

It's a picturesque view 

With the warm hues breaking the cool 

It's 9:45 am

The exact time we decided to meet 

I am always on time

But you never make it 

297 days have passed

The clouds have cried and sobbed

The trees have shed their leaves

But you never made it to this park 

It's spring, the leaves are budding back.

So 

Am 

I