Day yielded unwillingly to a shower

of gray sky

where stars faintly blink for attention.


We sat on a rock by the sea, its warmth

reminded us of a cloudless August day.

Receding emerald green waves

wash over sand and shells

releasing whispering sandpaper voices

into the salt air we breathe.


Our words merge with the aroma of

grilled vegetables, glowing charcoal and

fireplaces warming cool hands;

the touching of silverware signals

the call to tables.


We capture this place, friends shaking hands,

never to part, always near, bonded in summer…

that summer; always mine.




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