by Jack D. Harvey
Those sweet days;
young spring;
the robin,
like an adventure,
sings his
dull return.
Those sweet nights;
your ruff of hair
touched,
wet with promise.
Beyond the call
of blood, the stars
rain down
favor or disfavor;
one.
Tears after
sweet congress
distill drop by
drop,
touch my flesh
not like drops
of rain,
but the eternal tears,
blank heaven’s
reward for the
living.
Listen to me,
querida,
sought and
found;
this sweet time
a moment
will last,
and then pass
you and me
and all we were.
So let us love
these days;
young spring’s
but a mortal time
and no return
for you or me
will ever be.
This poem was previously published in pif magazine.
Jack D. Harvey’s poetry has appeared in Scrivener, The Comstock Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Typishly Literary Magazine, The Antioch Review, The Piedmont Poetry Journal and elsewhere. The author has been a Pushcart nominee and over the years has been published in a few anthologies.
