Our Starry Eyes

You were with me last spring (and you know who you are and what I mean), when time stood still and roses filled the garden in your back yard, imprisoned by that rusty old chain link fence I used to climb, trying to impress you and get your attention, anyway I could… back when your life and mine were a wave of wicked, wild, wonderful and good. Not that it’s all bad now, it’s just that lately I feel as though I’m behind the proverbial plough and you’re so much farther down the road somehow, well beyond the fork, where we said our last goodbyes. And I remember well the snow that fell and summer passed before our starry eyes. © Terrell Martin, 12/10/2024