Reminiscing

I've met Aura only recently and have really not spent much time with her. I've been writing a lot this summer and it feels as if, despite the short time I've known her, she's my muse. Here's a piece, reminiscing the last time I saw her.


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There was a time
when we didn't worry as much.
Do you remember, dearest?

We didn't worry
if you'd be mine,
or if I'd find you beautiful.
We didn't worry
what'd happen the day after,
the week or month or year after.

We didn't worry about
our contrasts
our frictions
our pains
and our aspirations crushed by the other.

It was an innocent time.
There was not a care in the world.
There was not a worry in the world;
only happy, juvenile joy
in each other's company
as we sat by the river
watching time while away.

There was not a worry,
but only silly romantic joy,
when the moon rose,
I sang for you,
and we held hands.

You and I deserved a few more of those days
of just joy without worry.
Heaven knows I had waited
for those days long enough,
and burnt and charred
my heart often enough,
to deserve some respite
with your soothing touch.

Life, chance, fate, choice
cut those days short
and threw us apart
to distant shores.

Now all we have left is worry,
interspersed with
the memory of the sweet nights
that early summer
we spent in each other's shade.