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Gypsy Summer

by Melina Raven Maness Diebold

I remember that summer
when I collected your kisses
and all those rose petals
burgundy and blood-red
like they were silver dollars

I paid my way with saved up lunch money
just so we could see
the Sunday Matinee

The minutes marched on
or at least they seemed to
on that grey-faced clock

That was the summer we shared
cookies and heartbeats
and stole glances
from behind blushed cheeks
It was the summer we ran away
from the year before

07/20/2002

Posted on 07/20/2002
Copyright © 2022 Melina Raven Maness Diebold

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