Only memories tread:
Bourbons on the lighthouse terrace.
She wore a morning’s glory
stretched aside the shore line,
set beneath the sunrise.
Spent Winters off the coast
hung-over with new energy
clutching at peace gone,
washed amid the sand
we danced around the bon,
circling the flames,
pressured at the core
recalling our purposes
calling out for more.
“She was a diamond
set to a timeless
life band
a constant”
Dom S. Flagg 2016