Winter Parting
Pick up the last stem of a summer flower,
Get high with the scent of the woods and earth under.
Stack even the last hay straw of the farmer
And prepare a throw on your bed in the corner.
All leaves are falling,
colors might have been tired from flirting.
We can’t stop winter from coming,
And so does our parting.
Comes spring, meet me at the garden’s end
Let’s play again, only God knows when.
But if my journey reaches its end,
Just don’t forget me my friend.

Originally written October 30, 2018 while counting the days before leaving Tripoli, Libya after 4 years and a half journey.
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