Late

the party over-
blackened wicks smolder in the
citronella pots

constellations-
old friends and
old stories

Rain

her face to the sky
sundress plastered to her skin
at one with the rain

sandals in hand-
bare feet in
the wet grass

Forsaken

still she counts the ships-
her thick wool sweater stained red
with the setting sun

date night-
she sits at a table
set for one

Lakeside

an empty rowboat
tied down to a weathered dock
rocking in the swells

salt spray-
the old pier’s
bleached bones

Darkness

heavy evening air-
silhouettes of hunting bats
in the fading light

drawn curtains-
low clouds
full of malice

Evening

slowly fading coals-
the clink of empty bottles
being put to bed

indigo sky-
crickets singing
around the campfire

Garden

tending his garden-
rich black soil etched deep into
his leathery hands

honeybees
a thistle hides
among the roses

Summer

an old swimming hole-
piles of clothes left abandoned
on the grassy shore

a frayed rope swing-
old memories
bittersweet

Return

reliving the past-
why am I drawn back to you
time and time again

poison ivy-
the inevitability
of regrowth

Regrets

your name on my phone-
against my better judgment
I answer the call

labor day-
the first taste
of pumpkin spice