If Only In My Soul

It was summer, and now again it is winter. Nature loves this rhyme so well that she never tires of repeating it. - Thoreau

i remember lace curtains

blowing in the open window sunshine of memories

gingerly wafting in the breeze

wings of a butterfly

waving to a far-off sky

'twas summer

its golden words mouthed and whispered

hearts opened wide to hear

i felt free and whole

if only in my soul

Author's Note

"A book should be so true as to be intimate and familiar to all men as the sun to their faces. Such a word as is occasionally uttered to a companion in the woods in summer, and both are silent." - Thoreau