Sometimes, I, too, can read between the lines:
after the fruit has ripened on the vines,
it falls; the blossoms also tumble, too.
So is the friendship I have shared with you---
vanished like smoke drawn up a drafty flue;
even that sorrow, as endured, refines;
and distant stars still shine in nearing blue.
Sometimes, I, too, can read the warning signs.
Starward
[*/+/^]