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