Folds by Patricia L. Brown
Photograph by Patricia L. Brown

Shadows dance across this space beyond the city’s glow,

Patchouli lingers lightly near; outside, a muffled snow.

Morning hair ablaze with sun and tangled wooly fuzz

Just as daytime breaks the night – the evening spell that was.


The ever fading glow of youth, worn with pride serene

Lost in folds of skin and sheets, and warmness in between.

Moments bathed in touch and smells, and dreams of far away

In those moments all is calm, and threats are kept at bay.


Skin and sky, lips and love, blood and breath still heaving

Flushed and full and famished, and anxiously believing.

Hope hangs there on threads of words, whispered with great care

Promises are made and kept; and this roots them there.


As a fledgling leaves the nest, an eagle claims its name

Just as tides return in time, but never quite the same.

So the past exerts its pull, while wrinkles mark the time

Watching as it slips away, for never was it mine.


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