Rendezvous

Raindrops drumming on a tin roof,

wind carrying the scent of burning wood.

Moonlight falling on intertwined fingers,

whiskey-warmed breaths whispering, “I love you.”


I’ve memorized the flecks in your eyes and

the brightness of your smile

against the darkness of the night.

Faint thunder brings me back to reality:

lightning acts as the flash

for the pictures I take in my head --



I don’t want to forget,

and I haven’t yet.