Strawberry Fields Forever

I spent my summer in the strawberries,
picking over memories of you and me.

I reached for the few remaining spots of red,
but among the berries grew the thorns,
which pricked until I bled no more.

I watched as frost grew on the vines,
and dark green leaves turned brown and dead.
As the snow buried deep what used to be,
what could have been,
and what may never be.

With the Spring came new leaves and life,
new loves, new dreams;
but most of all - new me, new you.

Now the thorns have withered with the vines
and lost the prick that once so stung.
Where was my blood,
now lies the pools of clear Spring rain.

There will be strawberry fields forever,
even when the ground is cold,
and pigs with wings go flying by.

There will be strawberry fields forever,
as far as my new eyes can see
because you are forgiven.