by Richard Vince

It was a long day after
A long two years in which
We grew both up and apart.

The heat of June was like
Young romance, but it
Expanded the air that filled
The space she left around
Her somehow diminished self.

Hope and expectation sit
On youthful shoulders,
Conspiring behind ragged wings,
Whispering in impressionable ears,
Distorting delight into
Dour disappointment.

It was a long two years after
A long two months that were
A dream, a wish, a fantasy
That even the longest of days
Could not possibly contain.


Posted on 12/24/2020
Copyright © 2021 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Joan Serratelli on 12/25/20 at 01:44 AM

This is a Very thoughtful piece- kid of haunting. A really great read.

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