ON THE ONE HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-SECOND DAY OF THE YEAR

You were again in my dream

the hours of the summer morning;

when the Sun crept up on the sky

I cradled you in my embrace,

and when the birds sang sweet

my hand went exploring your skin.

I spoke words of loving that my

lips never found back then, and

silent were you and forgiving.

And when the clock at midday

up drove me from the depths

of the consolating sleep, all alone

I was among my bedsheets

and my wounding mistakes.

12.06.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse