Giving Thanks

We sang our promises to each other
As you drove towards the bazaar,
Old-new music turning the air sharp and crisp
As the fiery trees that flew by.

Then we walked a little later
Through still-green fields and tire hills,
Speaking of springtime blossoms
As a wintery wind nipped at our hands.

Sitting on what felt like a grassy observation platform,
We ignored the phantom stares of others
And found ourselves in each other
As a summertime sun beat against us.

This new world of ours
Can and will survive the seasons,
For now we two cannot be separated,
Filled to bursting with love and hope.