With every year that she draws to its grave
she dies more than she lived days on this earth.
The force of life, at times a tidal wave,
that threw her further away from her birth,
now pulls her back, giving her a new start.
She digs a hole to burry this year
in letters she couldn’t sent, and a card
to her lover. He will never be near
more than he was alive, in her heart.
The year is done and the grave is covered.