She throws
        wishes into the night
             and waits for
       the stars to catch them.

               I said to her
         blue eyes, "meet me
                at midnight
            in   front  of  my
                   dreams.

                We'll make a
                    fire and
             count  the  stars
                that shimmer
             above  the  trees."

                 She's more
             myself than I am.
                  Whatever
           souls  are  made  of,
                   hers and
           mine are the same and
                 her heart and
                     my heart
                     are very,
              very old friends.
                                                                                     Jon York 2019

.       left
   alone
in rain  ignoring my      
                        last
                    right