A walk way comprised of wooden planks
The stores on each side vacant, deserted
The hand of winter flows with vigor
And the stars are masked by clouds
She walks with me, brown hair, and distant eyes
Her body used and discarded by many men
She saw something in me that others saw not
Though I rejected that which may have manifested love
And I ponder now what might have been
For my perception of love remains obscured
And these moments are but shards