Written August 9, 2001
Soaring past speed limit signs along route 80
Stretching towards the Lycoming mall
We three, momentarily oblivious to our heartaches.
Hair tangled by the fingers of the wind,
Throats raw from belting "Strawberry Wine,"
A song we were too naïve to understand
Only longing to be held under a 'hot July Moon'
while we were still seventeen.
Heads thrown back,
Creases beside our eyes,
Our guts sore from shaking,
As reflections on our past renew our faith in laughter.
This, this is a day to capture in the glass jar of precious memories.
Stored away for a lifetime.
No comments:
Post a Comment