On Brahms' Fourth and You

In the opening measures I catch

your eyes that seldom meet my gaze.

They lie as gentle weather turns,

darkening its layers.

Melodies tell what you once

told me: how I’ll remember you

and all you encompass.

Snow suffocates Autumn, the season

where you calmly reside.

The absence fills my heart, with each

passing moment building my desire.

What towers before me

can do nothing more than watch

as I slowly bear the night.

White landscapes envelope

the memory of you.