Onomatopoeia, Oddly Enough
When the moonlight's right,
and the earthy smell of lavender
lifts to meet a deep, evening breeze,
and memories under long ago leaves,
begin to fill the empty present
with sensations of our first kiss,
I have trouble moving an inch
into my future. I miss its echoes.
Copyright © Maggie Flanaganwilkie | Year Posted 2005
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