Dragonflypoetry.com

Those close call mornings

the pain of choosing

does she crawl or run

from her warm autumn bed. 

The critical temperatures

are soon to be upon us,

perhaps still to come

just one last blossom. 

Here we find ourselves

treasuring what’s left

of this summer’s memories

the flowered garden

haven’t quite quit

letting go of us, just yet. 

As long as the biting cold

takes feelings from our toes

we should probably hurry,

“you go first,”

she suggests

get the warm water going!

The everlasting downpour

that first warm shower

erases the heavenly barrier

she leans up super close

cupping her breasts,

thank you love. 

Taking in a mouthful of water

she holds that pose

pushing all other memories of cold

to the far away corners. 

Her tiny bathroom

stuffed and overflowing 

pockets of steam cover everything. 

Her hands make hungry gestures,

her muted body 

behind the sweaty glass

there is nothing so perfect

than these transitions,

she welcomes the change

of the cold Autumn mornings.