By Edna Leona Nelson

Do you think of me,
as I often think of you?
Do you think of the park
and the many nights of fun?

Your eyes, dark and sparkling;
your hair, long and wild;
your voice, soft and gentle;
your soul, warm and caring.

As the weeks passed,
summer left us and winter
came with long, cold nights;
The park belonging only to us.

New Year's eve we sat upon
our bench where you carved
our names; I remember that
night, oh, so well.

As I shivered with cold,
you handed me your jacket,
then put your arms around me
And as I turned- you kissed me.

You said you were leaving.
I thought you were joking.
The next night you weren't there,
and I knew you were gone.

Do you think of me now,
as I often think of you?
Do we share the same warm
memory of a cold night and a
gentle kiss?

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