The white snow on the tree branches, thawing now, dripping like tears onto the uncaring ground. The droplets have their moment of near-invisible beauty, the coronet of the slow motion splash, before they are lost forever, subsumed into the flat grey of mundanity.
And then there is you, your own slow-motion splash of evanescent beauty longer lasting than the drop of water, more durable than the frigid frosting now subliming into the atmosphere, but still, in the context of deep time, still but a fleeting instant, a year, maybe two, before the inexorability of maturity overtakes you, draws you back into the facelessness of the crowd, of the everyday. My time with you was only an infinitesimal moment of that infinitesimal time, but I'm still glad it happened, happy to have seen you in your pomp, the zenithal point of your pulchritude, a once in a lifetime conjunction, etched indelibly into my memory.
Be happy, lovely boy.
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Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
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