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Last Times
by Jane E PearceThe last time I held
your hand was
on a summer day,
potato salad in the trunk,
soda with promises
on the back seat.
.
Music on the radio
that told the sky
to smile, and trees
bidding us to explore
the unexpected world
of purple afternoons.
.
The last time I kissed you,
the moon almost blushed,
and turned the other way.
Crickets gossiped about
the scandal and would infer,
but we didn't care-
they didn't know who we were.
.
The last time we met, weathered,
and spent, we wondered
where all those years went,
since the purple afternoon hours,
the shocked moon, gossiping
crickets among the flowers-
gone but we don't care, we had
something precious to share.07/15/2005
Posted on 07/16/2005
Copyright © 2025 Jane E Pearce
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