Photo © Eric Muller

The View

The scent of apple pie 
still lingers on my lips
and the soft sound of laughter
drifts on the lavender breeze.
Fire flies light their lanterns,
flickering in the night,
as I sit on the grass
at the bottom of a gentle slope.
Northern Lights meander
lazily across the sky.
I feel like I could touch them,
idle fingers drifting through them
as if they were a silent flowing stream.
I breath a soft, melancholy sigh,
and my only regret is,
that you're not here
to share the view with me.

july 2004
© Janet Reid