6.4.16 Here's how it goes

Down by the pond, everything stops. 
Thoughts that stop us cold fall away.
Memories that churn set upon a shelf.
Yearning, masking true sadness, folded and folded again, into soft and cool,

 then carefully placed by the by. 

As the still Spring wind pushes against us, knocking us breathless , 

bringing us up short.
Pressing us back into our own lives , 

as that bright sun leaves til another day.