Magnolia buds
glimmer, like long, white candles,
in summer twilight.
An ocean of leaves
rustles softly in the breeze,
like someone dreaming.
I still remember
the slow drone of cicadas
hanging in the air;
I still remember
the warmth of the summer rain
flowing down my face;
I still remember
the rich, sweet scent of blossoms
open as the moon.
Though time has long dulled
the bright edges of passion,
still I hold you dear.
So please forgive me
the harsh, bitter words I said
upon our parting,
And let these buds be
a token of old friendship
beginning anew.
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