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.

 

 

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