Too Late

The innocence was there
in your eyes.
The mask you wore
was one of maturity,
of wisdom and experience.
That wasn't you.

And your hands,
bronze from the setting sun.
They slid down the warm hood
of the car you sat upon.
You tried so hard to relax.
But you feared the future,
as did I.

I found your hands
reach for mine.
And the comfort
from your warm brown eyes.
I was safe with you
underneath the melting sky.

And the willow above us
outstretched its arms,
and cradled us
as she began to weep.
For time was running out,
and we were long past gone.