We sit under the raspberry tree
On the deck behind coffee-purist haven.
The sky is grey and the coffee is black
And the raspberries bouncing off our heads
Alternate between new green and blush pink.

Blush like the cheeks of two people who held hands once in middle school
And meet again as 'adults' with cars and college credits.

The chubby boy from music class went punk in a hurry and smokes.
The loudmouth girl with a bowl cut read far too many books and fidgets.
Our paths diverged through no fault of our own --
Only to touch back briefly when the snow melted each year.

Yet there we sit in the raspberries and in the promise of yet more rain,
And fill the gaps in our lives with stories
Of times between summers --
Heartbreak, hobbies, tattoos, awkward kisses --
And there's one of those too, at the end.
A long-time coming, heart-stopped second between strangers and best friends.