Oh love, remember when the cicaddas
prodded summer on, with their saucy beat
as we listened on the dark patio after
a day of late summer heat-
how we took for granted our time
of season after season, not bothering
to hold them close, for we had no reason
to doubt their promised trysts,
but the future would show us what it means
to be missed-to be missed.

05/10/2011

Posted on 05/11/2011
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