R.M. Dolin, December 26, 2023
A hawk circles in downward spirals casting long shadows on the quiet forest floor, heightening fears that challenge the value of retracing our finality of forever. You scurry from beneath a fallen log whose once lush branches have turned to dust. Seeking refuge in a rock, you seldom flee even though it's stale, and empty, and bare. Love is layered in loneliness, like sediment along the washed-out banks of a prairie river winding through every mistake I've made, every regret I wish could be carried away in an upstream surge. We’re not meant to be apart, even if it's the path of least resistance. I love you, and that alone is enough. You are every bit as perfect as I can only strive to be, as important as sunlight on my soul. If there's still enough of me, left in you, give me a chance to fight for us.
