Remember Me Then

Like fruit that's plucked too soon, I'm too bitter.
Set me upon the windowsill awhile.
Let me ripen beneath a woman's smile,
And through the pane we'll both view the glitter
Of dew upon the grass, the colorful blaze
Of autumn leaves, and their gentle flitter
To earth that follows frost-etched fall mornings.
Remember me then as fruit crushed to wine
To warm your heart anon, as now you do mine.