Beads of Sunlight

         When we met, the sun had long faded into the cragged city line beyond our downy hill. It was not an evening of vivid reds and oranges, or complicated reflections upon the buzzing ‘scape, but a muted palate vista of melding golds from my ear to yours. Hand in hand, eyes gently opened (just to let in the splendors of a perfect ending), I waited for your tempered breath to echo through my heart; I waited for a million tomorrows to finally come to a constant, reigning, singular moment. That immortal moment of you– scented more simply than the scattered daffodils –and I.
         The slope forgot us as we parted, never to recognize our immovable imprints over the city again. Time pushed and pulled, and lives moved. All that I can surely and simply say is that I know there will always be one moment that is our life.

         And nothing of that moment – of that love – will change.