Four

Sometimes I forget that I am a visitor when im there
Not here
I guess that’s what happens during the in between years of your twenty somethings
We now visit our home and reside some place – or
No place

My home is all wings and honey
Lemon and thyme
Its always summer time even at Christmas

This summer I rolled in the grass and talked to Jane and listened to butterfly songs
I aged not one day but lay suspended under oak trees
Under bees over red wine

I sat in stillness dipped in sugar and hung out to dry
Next to memories and lilies
Yellow coated lust

Spiders crawled like snails spinning crystal licking lips catching raindrops
Flowers whispered futures in my ears and made me dream again
Everything soft golden humming and

Me
Surrounded by the sound of the sea

Family and friends came and went but I was under the leaves on the balcony
Singing roses
Eating sunbeams
Maybe I still am