I tightly hug
my sons goodbye.
Leave them
to their young men’s lives.
Drive away
after skies decant a
thunderstorm,
then burst into
peach and pale azure.
Journey and travel
and ride
through ebony night,
singing loudly
to stay awake.
Park in dawn harbor,
crimson and tangerine
ripple on dark water.
Gentle breeze,
moon slice
punctuated with
a single star,
dark side of the moon
outlined against
indigo sky.
And wrapped
in my husband’s arms
I dream
a gentle scent
of
sweet
spring rain.
June 20, 2017
gaia mouse 