Poetry

Summer

In the hawthorn’s shadow,

where blackbirds stitch the dusk with song,

The evening light spills like honey

slowing the rush of the day.

There you are.

Your beauty unfolds,

a delicate mystery,

like the moon’s shy ascent.

Your eyes, blue and deep,

hold a night’s worth of stars,

each glance a bright constellation.

I am drawn to the angles of you,

the sharp edges softened by dusk,

each glance a new geometry

to decipher.

We speak in fragments,

stories scattering

like seeds on the breeze.

Your voice, a current

running through rivers of silence,

pulls me under,

to where words are fish,

silver and swift,

flashing secrets in the murk.

Adminsummer, rivers, light