I can see her so clearly, that lovely red knit hat
Snug over that gorgeously long full brown hair, the eyes
I studied them, their aloof cool smarty pants flirting
With the brooding wealthy kid who easily had it all
I remember it seemed endlessly winter, or cold
It was always vaporous breaths, shivers in sweaters
I mistakenly believed the romance of weather
She said, love means never having to say you’re sorry
I whispered this out loud in unsuccessful efforts
To understand true love from beauty’s advantaged view
I thought that love meant you couldn’t do anything wrong
That my other would magically enter my life
I expected cold and the wearing of Irish knit
No apologies need cross our lips for feelings hurt
I would have compassion, as would he, for all errors
Of daily weakness, inconsiderations, and faults
I found not this perfected cinematic love,
Where there are collegially played scenes throwing snowballs
I have learned that we all transgress from love’s intention
There has been no Irish knit protecting from those chills
I know that death is not pretty or white like portrayed
Sad my wishing, striving for complete understanding
I have asked to be forgiven and so have they…with pleases