The days we’ve shared, like autumn leaves
All brightly-hued, have drifted by;
And Mother Time, who softly weaves
Enchantment, breathes a gentle sigh.
Half a year of memories – each leaf a different one:
Now, in the midst of wind and snow,
We dream nostalgically of summer sun,
The trees, the water – yes, we know;
Bridge with friends, a game of chess,
Mountain climbing, or country ride –
(Events one would enjoy far less,
Without the other by his side.)
But look! There are new buds ahead
Which promise to unfold
As toward fulfillment we are led
Of all the dreams we hold.
-Mary T. Hoffman
Yes, it's true. Today is my six-month anniversary of "real life."
Go ahead, judge me.