Although we’ll never again
be body to body or mind to mind,
you and the place and the years
are alive every night in the letters
I’ve stored in my room.
In your letters it’s still
that day in July
when we met on the hill,
with trees in applause
and the sun all over the water.
In your letters we’re always
body to body, mind to mind,
far out on the sea,
kissing and striking
fires of our own on the water.
The Poet Community is completely reader supported, please help me keep it going.
Have you read Guy Farmer's social justice poetry book now available on Amazon?
Read poems by Guy Farmer on this site.