spring has melted
summer stone
as blossoms white
to grace the ground
crooners sit
the long night perched –
balanced by the moon

silhouette of shadow
against this pink charade
surely this –
our fate to know
one more blessed summer
met as one to count
of hairs
(every day) between

the rising
and the falling down
so glad we have no warning –
of when the bell
shall toll
and time begins

dusted light
before the dawn
yet eyes can see forever
as lovers press allegiance
to the blade

crickets
store their trumpets
and still their tired hands –
while luna slows her heart
against the wood

one more turn
eternal
as rings beneath the bark –
balance me beside the moon
as doves before
the day