I cannot guarantee anything.*
the warmth of breathing human being
ruffle the cool strands of my hair,
untidy yet shimmering softly
gentle beams of moonlight
Stars glisten in the dark navy sky,
the moon floating like a pearl orb of silver sunlight
To have our feet tired from walking the daily bouts of life,
to feel the comfortable weight of life lifted even for a moment.
To have the stereo humming with low,
swaying beats of brilliant acoustic,
guitar and a ringing voice buttered
with the soothing strum of an ocean’s breeze.
To have our backs nestled on the hood of the car,
the head lights trailing two perfect beams
which stretch far into the dark night,
The headlights catch the swaying stalks of golden hay,
the flutter of moths swinging about in the fray
As the night wanes and the early morning precede,
the car will be turned off, the headlights no more,
so that all that can be heard is our silence
The morning is beautiful,
the silence a comfortable melody,
One whispers a syllable or so,
soon a train of laughter is followed,
it is broken with the voice of loss and defiance,
of confusion and youth,
the air is sweet and lingers with
the hard knock of trees, presumably pine.
The horizon glows with the faintest sheer blue,
the pine trees stand in the distance
Soothing, cool breeze flutters across the field,
Like the way I feel
When my life feels right
In short glimpses as such
Yet,
I cannot guarantee anything.
My memory taunted me
that place in time when there is a moment of pure clarity and joy, as if life is supposed to feel this way
it's so peaceful, I'm afraid it's too good to be true
I'm waiting for a catch, a glitch
because moments like this have recently felt
like it can never exist
