Quart of honey


    Sweeter than the quart of honey,


    our loot after meandering the market stalls,


    breathing in the cleansing spirit of fall.


    Sweet when we picnicked in the park,


    watching the reflections of ducks.


    Sweet when we hiked the mountain


    to the light of the distant suns,


    searching for the peak.


    Sweet when I kissed your cheek,


    fragile as a butterfly,


    unexpected as rain in sunshine.


    Sweet when you held my hand,


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    familiar as a dog-eared book


    I can recite word for word.


    Sweeter than the bee sting of the many years I dreamed


    of this fall with you.


    All the things


    It was all the same thing,


    one thing. Holding hands.


    Walking the sidewalks, trails, mountains


    or streams. Catching each other after class.


    All one thing.


    We could have been shoveling dirt,


    as long as we shoveled together,


    wafts of earth like fairy dust in my eyes,


    rocks like diamonds,


    holes like treasure hunts.


    The cuddles were sweet,


    the words gentle, the moments tender,


    but it all pales like the dead


    when I realize it’s you.


    The girl I missed until I found


    all the things in the blinding light of our simple,


    homegrown love.