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Click hereA beautiful boy
caramel skin
thick, rich, black as sin, hair
autumn eyes,
and when he looked at me
an Indian summer grin.
It was a brisk fall
as I recall,
late at night
when I’m caught
in tangled sheets
billowed about by
bed memories
of them surprising me
with their intimacy.
Weeks of passing
each other
with cold, bleak expressions
The blond boy he loved
stopping me,
leaving his car running
in the middle of the snow
and ice
to shatter my life, with
“He is gone!”
“He is gone!”
Who knew winter begins
in one day?
I loved the "indian summer skin", but the winter came and I felt your sudden solstice. Excellent working of seasons and relationships in your poem. Well done...
jim :)