Goodnight Sweethear T
Why only yesterday
the craggies youthfully
flowed down your cheeks.
When did your neck
turn tweed and your fingers
thicken more than before?
Sure, your ruggedness attracted me,
but this is different. Each new line
a furrow of our riverbed,
a new bend toward lights out
and goodnight Irene from more
than a dimly lit dance floor.
Next to you each night
I slumber to your breath
and in slumber, dream eternal youth.
©Kathryn McL. Collins
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