Bow to Cello

She
slid
down
my

chest… and stayed there,
cupped in the depth of my heart.
As decades blurred around Us,
Our Season never changed,
departed, nor waned.
And when the gravestone beckoned
Us, to come, nestle beneath it…
I first, and then She…
I wreathed our new home
with as much love as I could muster,
in preparation of Her coming back to Me.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer, who’s currently up to his elbows in Magic, and long may it remain this way. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.