Do you fold it neatly
Like a winter sweater
Lay it carefully across
Other treasures
Inside a cedar chest
Till melancholy leads you
To open the lid
Shake it loose, admire it
Only to discover it
No longer fits
Like fresh peaches
Cut into manageable pieces
Submerged in liquid that preserves
Is it displayed on kitchen window sills
Or do you simply bury it
Beneath a tree
Visit it periodically
To mourn the passing
Of a love not lasting
--Connie P., Adult