At midnight in the month of
June she and I stood beneath
the mystic moon with our hearts
full of what I thought was my
last and final love that came out
of nowhere as if from above.

Now the Sun on this brief
September day rises briskly over
my feelings of gray because I
really had nothing to say to her
except, "why did you do me
that way?"

Love will dream and faith will
trust that somehow somewhere
meet we must to discover if it
was love or just ***** lust because
we both watched it crumble to
dust so fast when we were sure
that it would last.

All I can say is wash what is *****,
water what is dry, heal what is
wounded, sooth what is hurt,
dry tears that are shed, warm
what is cold, guide what goes
off the road and love those who
are least lovable because they
need it the most.
                                                  Jon York      2015