Poem for a dead lover.

I wrote this in the mid 90's about the death of Timothy Joseph Hanson.

Season of Sleep

The world is growing cold with the
Approach of winter.
It is time for the trees to go to sleep for now
And you, my love, to go to sleep forever.
You who were the fountain of beautiful
Chaos in my life, are now gone.
I do not know how to tell you good-bye
Nor can I properly express the depth
Of emotion to which you are attached.
I will never be the same for this.

The golden leaves fall from the trees and remind
Me of another time when you and I drove through the
City filled with the grief for another lost friend.
That time is gone, now it is I driving
Alone in waves of pain.
How do these things happen?
Who is it that decides on this horror?
I thought I knew, but I am more confused.
So, the trees will sleep and so shall you.
The only difference is that they shall rise in the spring,
But you, my love, will not.