our September kissed me after a winter of agony
and I was leaf-tip, green and trembling;
and you were peachy keen and so patient,
no rush, no rush, no rush.
we were still barely dipping toes when we went to the water
waist-deep and wet hair and braver than brave,
seaweed and sunburn be damned.
we got a whole, warm summer; a season of love,
of the intrepidation of hands and hearts
like us, and like this poem,
so much more than we planned.
iii. event horizon
when two thirds of our precious next flew like you did,
away, away, and all at once back to my arms,
autumn tempered our tenderness –
ever softer, ever stronger,
steeling ourselves as space swept stars.
our glow came home with you, across the sky,
just as I had hoped;
the days grew shorter, and we stretched to fill them with light.
the cold nights come again tomorrow;
see already how we draw our warm quarters,
curled safe of us and around us.
we are inking what has been,
pencilling daydreams and dates.
today we mark three seasons –
brimming eager for the fourth.