Waves on the waterfront.
Sun eloping with the sad waters, the lulling ones,
Leaving forlorn the lavender froth
     Of this mischievous sky.

The wind fled and felt heavy
And heavily so for what it cannot touch.
A cicada sings to the ghost of his lover.
A tree misses, always missing,
     Its first leaf.

And I miss her...

The frost of our memories
Thaws away to my soul
As the slow burn of remembering.
And this time, for the very first time,
My heart felt
     Like an inhabited isle.*

© 2015 J.S.P.