how can youth be ill begotten

with words i’ve wandered far afield

there is a song i’d like to steal

it started with a melody

and weaved its way inside of me

 

the strings were tuned and intertwined

i heard it in another clime

the wind was soft and called a breeze

the sun had warmed all to an ease

 

the water sweet as lemon tea

and quenched a thirst inside of me

the poem i finished in those days

could paint a blue sky out of gray

 

but summer came unto an end

the equinox was not my friend

i noticed not the leaves of fall

how i had lost the word enthrall

 

the beach now sand and salty skin

the sun will always come again

the towel is folded on a shelf

my thoughts became concerned with health

 

that i did not know i would lose

with life just laughing at its ruse

and now those days deep in my past

occupy the shadow cast

so unconcerned with what we had

so satisfied that we could laugh

 

***