Fighting father time, capitalizing on our love, crystallizing our moments into memories. No one understands our love. Outside looking in, I will love you with this much intensity for the rest of my life
Now that the torches and camp fire roars after being well lit, I sit in my chair at a distance.
There on a log close by in front of the burning logs, you sit. Talking and laughing with the others.
Your light so much bright then the fires I lit.
by Leslea Newman (Holyoke, MA)
Mirrors are covered
Wooden benches are set out
Have a good mourning
Where’s the coffee pot?
I ask my father, who knows
my mother would know
Welcome. Please come in.
Sit anywhere. Except there!
I am next to you with your fingers in twinned with mine.
My head rests against yours and our hearts beat in rhyme.
I turn to you and look into your eyes.
My love for you reflected back to me in your eyes.
I smile and you smile back