June, by Britta Benson


The evening sunlight enters my garden

like a long lost friend, poised with wonders

and offering no explanations. Only smiles

go deeper. Hands clasp, souls embrace.

We observe each other eye to eye,

almost equals. My friend is long gone

before I feel the chill in my bones, alone.

Unkissed. With a longing for more and

the spark of a distant fire in my heart.

Britta Benson

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