I’ll write about the odor of
an afternoon spent lying beneath
willow skirts near a pond
while in thoughts of this day
as it softly moves through my mind.
I’ll leave my bow and arrow behind
take a break from trying to find
a gentle soul to snuggle with mine.
I’ll write about the journey back
once I get to where I’m going
but that may be a while seeing how
a place has not been decided as yet.
Breathing has become teamwork
dreaming too when night returns
bringing stars that twinkle around
conversations of day that passed.
I’ll write about those silly notions
where walking on the moon
really happened way back when
and ponder why it hasn’t happened
in Palm Beach since.
I’ll write about the use of
broad strokes to paint whispers
and snap a picture of hearts falling
into a glass of bubbling champagne
as though two lovers are celebrating
existing as one on a riverbank.
Yes, I’ll write. More.. Next time..