The summer was golden and honeyed and brighter than angels.
We walked hand in hand in ancient woods and wide open meadows.
We played and crystal clear waters that took our breath away
as we dove under. The sun shimmered and crowned the mermaids.
We made love in our little cabin as the day ended, falling asleep embracing.
And summer is a ribbon that cuts your heart with a sweet and stinging venom
as we wait out the dim days and moonless nights, wiping away the tears of the stars
as we remember the sweetness we had before and that me must wait to return.
We laugh and dream and talk about the first time the sun will touch our child
when it comes to us in the first of spring, a year after we exchanged rings.
Holding on to the light as the darkness seems eternal and unpassing.
I must remember the stars crown my wife’s head as we keep out the red dragon
that comes in the cold and in the dark and the siren song of despair.
She is warm as we share our simple meal, and find strength in memory and hope.
The sun will come again, having escaped the serpent that tried to swallow it.
The sun will come again.