Gentle breezes
of you and I
To speak of balmy
summer nights
Where went the beauty
windswept plains
Of sawing cicadas
calling your name
Now resting here
within a tomb
I have created
to forget you
For here in grief
I’m not reminded
Of the summer we spent
beneath Orion.


Echoes on the Stairs Copyright © 2015 by Felicity Johns. All Rights Reserved.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *