Floss ball of summer
Strands of evergreen
Swathes of pickpocket daisies
I would write a letter
Something about the roundness of love
About how profound it feels somehow
To look back from now
Free of pain and anguish
Full of the loss of longing
The longing that settled
Into a mind filled
Those days by treasure
Paths and trails of smitten tales
Leveraged by the faint lines
Of our past times together
This poem is from the collection
