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useless12sstuff

4 years ago

Your river by the oak tree

has turned molten gold again,

as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.

The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles

While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,

When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,

Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,

While we sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,

Under the silver moon.

A lot has changed since then.

Since the night we met.

~Me