Still To Show An Afterglow Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Through the meadow swift.
With picked twigs and fresh selected sticks...
We run.
Having fun,
Under moss green sunlit trees.
Young!
And full of 'come-and-get-me' glee.
We played in times lasting forever then.
Back when her tresses flowed...
As we played hide 'n seek,
With agreeing youth peaking.
Feeling the magic,
Of a blooming Spring season...
Free as breezes.
Teasing to go!
To leave us sparkling,
As blossoms bright...
Still to show an afterglow.