They came too late to say “goodbye”

for long had she been dead

the one who had bounded free

and always the herd  led

where goes the life

that under tree doth fall

a breath too soon has left

tho young or old it matters not

their heart we are bereft

Winter steals many things

color, warmth and all

your beauty seemed to gather much

and teased the world of spring

Carry forth into the night

you spirit of the dawn

perhaps well see you in her eyes

unsteady as a fawn