I think of apple blossoms in May,
the month we met.
The brown and gold leaves of fall rustling and
crunching under foot,
your favorite time of year,
Of huge wet snowflakes, drifting down to drench us
as we walked the city streets.
Your eyes glow green as light jade.
Your smile is a dazzling slash of white trim
on tan khaki.
You are always there for me, as sure as the earth
revolves around the sun
and one day follows another.
When I am near you I tend to lean against your
strength, hold your hand for warmth,
and coax a smile from your eyes to your lips.
Maytime has long passed, but that young airman
still lives in my heart.
And, in our sunset,
dear John,
the glow still lingers.
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