by John Stocks
This was our time
Joy sings from letters, diaries
From the forces that would shape us
Sings in a ravenous lust for life
The unspoken communion
And speak of how you kissed me
Some distant moon ago
The boys still hidden
In the soft black velvet of your dreams.
Forget then, the suffering of night
We are just beginning
We are the summer morning
Young love, sweetly murmuring
The love only the innocent can know.
Dawn is breaking
We walk barefoot, across the lawn
For the first and last time
The shadows fall so softly
On the cherry blossom at our feet.
John Stocks is a widely published and anthologised writer based in Sheffield, UK. His work has appeared in the Cinnamon Press anthology, Shape Shifting, Type 51, a Northern writer’s anthology, and This Island City, a collection of poetry about Portsmouth. John’s poetry also appears alongside work by Leonard Cohen and Seamus Heaney in an Indigo Dreams anthology Soul Feathers, available in all Waterstones stores.
This poem originally appeared in Issue 7.