on the plum tree by the door.
Come sit with me and rest a while;
the porch is sweetly cool.
Tomorrow, perhaps, those petals
will fall--I'll still be here with you.
And when night overtakes the garden, dampening the chill air with her breath, we'll watch the stars turning,
slowly, from our porch swing,
your hand a blossom in mine.
(c) 2013, by Hannah Six
(Photo: Christopher D. Six)
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