wb :

lost in the brambles 

of the gathering gloom

i saw your impression 

in the middle of the room

with all the fireflies

waving to me

like the ocean does

to stand up paddlers occasionally

the vines were unyielding

so I thought I’d hedge my bets

and make my way over

dodging abandoned picnic mats

watercolor memories

aren't light-fast

and they'll fade with time

but i knew you’ll be my last