Bagatelle

Bagatelle

The last throes of summer
         warm sunshine
unblemished blue skies
         so much light during the day
not a cloud on the horizon
         it feels good to be alive
it feels good to be in love
         it feels good to be

and at night
         the temperature drops
the pleasure of cold cotton sheets
         when we enter the bed
the warmth of her skin
         against mine
the room draped in darkness
         we lie cradled
in each other’s arms
         and time bows out
leaving us all alone
         with all the hours
we could ever need
         and a tomorrow
that we pray
         may never come

John Lyons

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