Sepia Days Poem by michael mc dermott

my sepia days before cycling on cliffs
to meet fickle fortune
started out sleepy and sticky
adrift, without money to spend
but with freedom to spin in sunny places
where everywhere smelled good
stretched evenings were full of wicked promise
listing to music and talk of other worlds
the temptations of twilight brought excitement
and maybe a kiss
inside everything felt good
summer nights were filled with pleasurable reflections
reading in bed with Caroline oscillating on air
and then sleep until
leaving my sumptuous dreams behind
again I bathed in the morning bliss
knowing that everybody was good