In the movie Groundhog Day,
Bill Murray has to live the same
day again and again.
The day of sun and wind,
when we met at the Blue Danube,
would be my choice, if I could choose
one day to live
over and over.
We left and took a walk;
on narrow streets
you told me about growing up
in London, Irish Catholic;
by the beach I talked
about my life, laughing:
all my stories so sordid;
as kites soared high,
I felt free
to tell you anything.
I wouldn’t have to improve
my endlessly repeating,
already perfect day,
since I didn’t know yet
the chilly wind
meant you would soon turn cold.
Each year the groundhog,
on his day, comes out
and sees his shadow or he doesn’t,
predicting more of winter
or coming of an early spring;
I never heard this year’s prediction,
but it feels
like a long, long winter.
A Life in Poems 
You have this ability, Willow, to move the heart with a single, simple statement at times and here with the entire work; your remembering makes me remember. i find this sad and utterly beautiful. Thank you.
John, thank you so much; it’s a wonderful experience to write something that’s really meaningful to me and to have it be meaningful to others; Thanks for your kindness and support.
Sad, beautiful, desolate… just like winter, and those wintry times our souls experience.
“those wintry times our souls experience”–what a lovely way to put it even though they’re painful times. Thanks for your comments, Kate–I appreciate them very much.