There is only joy in love, she said.
But what about grief, I asked,
The grief that feels like stone?
That’s fear, she said, when you think
love is gone. Love is never gone.
Only you can answer the question,
for we’re alone in our decisions;
Can the aspen advise the crocus?
You and I are that different, she said.
Yet, their roots are intertwined, I said.