The mowers have left an uncut patch
where the riders park their bikes in the rack.

There are a few pieces of grass caught in your hair,
your cheeks are flushed,
and I remember what you told me once.
But despite everything we�ve shared,
each day brings a new goodbye.
Each parting is no indicator
of what the next day will bring.
But like a shared sunset,
we learn to appreciate temporal beauty.
If everyday were Heaven,
we would spend our time together,
but then we wouldn�t need this poem
to make the moment last.