What would Jane Austen Grow?

Bright cool sun, lemon yellow like meringue pie.

Full of promise and energy

I remember love and desire

setting off alone, together.

Nature, breeze in the trees

birds singing.

Talking, talking, then kissing,

then….

Innocent, more childlike than adult.

I thought I knew so much

but I didn’t.

Before my heart was broken

before I learned how cruel a lover can be.

Before I knew how far I could stray from my central being.

Brashness and courage.

I remember you.

You smelled like Old Spice and sweat.

Musk and smoke.

Your beard a little rough.

Your hair soft and curly as I ran my fingers through it.

I know now that we were never meant to be.

We wouldn’t have made it.

But on that spring day, bright with promise

ripe with pleasure

fully present

I loved you

and I still believe

you loved me.