long grass with bowed neck, sunshine and wind, twin rivers rushing in between.
she entered my dreams like fingers parting dark silk, then settling, sleeping.
the warmth of her touch, even in the deep unlight sparked in me flash fires.
a scratched fractured lens, her beauty filtering through in evening sunlight.
sad silver birch song, on the wind and in the eaves, yesterday, always.
late honey summer swarms thick around our ankles, dripping through our hair.
seventh boulevard, raindrops on his newspaper disguise falling tears.
an uncommon warmth between strangers in the rain, her touch, his shoulder.
her world shimmered through a lens of translucent blue, disintegrating.
rosemary rambled throughout his treasure garden, lavender beside.
seven dragonflies, shimmer and swoon across a turbulent river.
late summer contrails, disappearing faster than our frail union.
the unending scroll of his hero’s adventure, tattooed on her back.
afraid to open the handwritten envelope in his mother’s voice.
us, a brittle ship, adrift, lost, with broken mast, in ice black waters.
in the morning light, with her vintage camera, and leather red strap.
yellowed lace curtains, the tattered petticoat of their never wedding.
by the evergreens, we conquered our own mountains, those autumn warm days.