didn’t we kiss for the first time
yesterday, on this too brief passage
through the invisible gardens
of time? the dogwoods
by the old dutch church drop all
of their flowers at once, blanketing
the ancient graves with white
for a single day each year. memory
is all the immortality we’re offered.
this, at least, we must promise one another –
me, I vow never to forget your eyes,
and you, you my love
must always remember my hands.