Love is it?

Love what is love?

Is it a handbag, or glove?

Is it that certain look you wear?

At that certain time?

Is it the turn in the year?

Is it a sign?

And can we buy it?

And will we leave it all behind?

In the things shed

The skin surface of things

As they appear?

Will they dissapear?

Into the turn in the year

The being alone too much?

and the crowd who will see them

So many loves?

Do we even count them, know them?

Next year we will have forgotten

The first line of the song

That showered them in rain

And yet that first smile

Of your first love

Is still here

Standing in the shadows

Shedding light

And how much did it cost?

This love without money?

And was it worth the fall, into love?

yvette m smith july 09

poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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