August rains of the Western shore
Brought with them a haunting hymn
Melancholy I’ve never felt before
Even as I embraced him
How I resent the ticking time
Waltzing ahead without a care
Our bittersweet laughter chimed
Amidst the tears, a sound so rare
Could it be his touch or his smile
Without which I languish whole
To make him mine might be a while
He tries…but fails to console
I hugged, I cried, then I withdrew
I curse this bubble life of ours
He may have bid adieu
But I’ll smell of him for hours
--
Originally published in The Junction
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