Remember the Sun

I know I was touched by the summer sun.
I wrote poetry inspired by her gentle fingers.
I felt the lingering warmth of her golden love.
But my memory is stolen by unyielding winter.

I do recall that she made me happy.
Her rays felt like bright lines of laughter.
Her light, a smile that I was forced to answer.
But now my tears freeze on this mournful face.

My mind may recall, and my tongue can recite.
My pen records, but my heart does not know.
I think of the sun, speak of her touch
Write of her feel, but I feel only cold.

I was touched by the summer sun
Now she only touches on these blankets of snow.
Winter has taken what was once between us
And now winter’s cold grasp is all that I know.