September Eyes

What of the days,
those rainy, cozy days
where we may sit together,
bundled in your grandmother’s quilt,
your sunflower face beaming
as your honeyed eyes pour
into the pages of your book.
Of the days,
those balmy, summer days
where we may walk together,
as we watch him grow
sturdy and strong,
like the oaks in our backyard.
What of those days,
unlived and unknown,
that slip away like sand
on a forgotten shore
as we live our lives apart.
What of those days then?


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