just a smidgen

it was

the air’s 
cool breath,
a handful 
brushed over,
drifting settled,
that
carried with
it a midsummer’s
end of day
cooling heat
and sun’s kissed
skin burnt red
as crushed raspberries
on toast
while a flight of 
geese bloomed
overhead
and you were there
and I was there, too,
music thrumming
across waves…
a hammock,
I think,
and laughing,
weren’t we?
about some
sort of
something that
didn’t matter
and time was
restless and 
undefined
by any moon
or star
or shape of rock
on any shoreline 
that wondered,
just a twixt 
of time spent
with nothing to
do about
much but
much to 
do about
love

Barbara J – March 24, 2020

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