Death Is A Long Season Before The Funeral Poem by Uriah Hamilton

Sitting on sidewalks contemplating
defeated dreams that linger in the dust,
I just want someone I can trust
with truth and dignity.

I've seen my plans
evaporate like summer mist
or like ancient memories
of the most fragile kiss.

If only I could return
to forgotten afternoons
in college book stores
or certain secret cities
with lavender hotel rooms.

All I really know now
is elaborate and changing thoughts
of love like it will never be again.