red blossoms foretell green leaves

the air foretells a coming frost

don't you feel it   a contraction

a withdrawal   a spring hibernation

of spirit   a chill about the heart

i'm speaking of you   my love

how you have found a way

into my heart   yet nothing to hold

within my hands but emptiness

you remember my hands about

your waist   you cannot deny it

i remember it as if it happened

yesterday   if you don’t believe me

how the cold has seeped within   

put your hand upon my breast  

is there not a chill about the heart

Wu Tsê-t’ien

624 - 705