This Week

I'm crossing lines between 

The kelly green of the forest trees

The path I seek is just a couple feet 

In front of the creek

Spring weather has never felt better

Wind in my hair, the trees are not bare

And I don't have a care in the world

All the time that we shared 

I knew something was there

It was the way that you stared at me

So I gave the look back

But a year after that 

I was alone staring at my feet..