For Writers in the Mist and Dreamers in the Dance
Memory Wind by Laura Botsford
I am a living memory in every life that ever invited me to join with them to rustle old leaves
Moving them on from autumns’ auburn and golden blush crinkled and chipped
from summers well lived.
I have raised the first breath of Spring out from the frozen crystals of winters sleep.
I have been the fragrant scent of flowers basking in the sun of a summer’s garden noon day deep
And I have held you in the coolness of a shaded tree,
protected you as the resting bird from the glaring heat.
Opalescent and green
Transmutable in every season, I stand beside you, clearly seen
You are not alone
You are my heart’s desire and everything is moving us into a serendipitous surrender
And remember that we have never sinned
As we glide in our places
Effortlessly on wind
Though time and love escapes into creases of faded letters
and borrowed memories hold us barely together
Bound and bought
There is no weather that will forsake our love, from where molten candles once burned brightly,
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