The seasons circled back again
To touch from start to end
I feel the summer creeping forth;
Its voice is in the wind.

The warmth is like a long lost book
I open once again
To stroke aside each dog-eared page
To see where this began:


Two years ago, two summers past
On morning such as this
The sun was climbing up the sky,
The grass was touched with mist.

I chased the dawn down past the lake
That imitated glass
The early-morning gentle air
Breathed wind, so soft and chaste.

We moved then like the moon and sun,
One far and one behind.
I followed shrinking shadows while
You basked in morning's shine.

A wistful turn would break that spell,
Your warmth was hard to miss
There in the daybreak's balmy air
So fresh, so new, so crisp.

And you- the sun- you rose and came
Like light across the ground
My breathless lips would part in awe,
Yet utter not a sound.

Sweet Sunshine thieved my breath away
And filled my marveling eyes
The once eternal nightingale
Had turned her back on night.

That was the long-lost summer when
All things were then in bloom
The beginning of the ending when
The Sun fell for the Moon.

Your eyes burned and danced between
First blue then green, then blue
The driftwood fires, beachfront pyres,
Your essence clashing too.

Cracking, burning, twisting with
The knowledge close at hand
The truth within the salted seas
That lap and brush the sand.

I had placed you there and you
Like sun-bleached ocean wood
Went willing trapped up in my grip
Although you understood...

The mark those waters left upon
Your brittle, scorched treebones
Your twisted fingers skyward
With your back against the stone.

And somehow I, though conflicted, danced
Around you both between
Consuming and devouring
Both fallow earth and sea.