It’s Tale Weaver over at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and the prompt is evening.
Twilight eases in
as if someone secretly
draws our window shade
lower
and
lower
and
lower.
Fireflies wink their
flirty winks and the sky
lets a few stars peek out
a hint of magnolia
caresses the air; the moon
rises like bread dough
in the slow, sultry near-breeze.
Another sip of Muscadine
And I can just about feel
Your hand holding mine.
Reminds me of holding onto a memory.
But it could also be a special quiet time of reality.
Nicely done.
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Thank you, Jules. I believe it’s a bit of both. Thank you for commenting. 🙂
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