Intermediate Impression
A Poem

It was only after a while you were perched on the red bench yellowed cherry trees coming out of your hair that I changed the focus came out then back in I peeled back your pages like the skin of a poem let some light on those legs of yours that back of yours that mouth that presses out such lovely syllables such as who I am and who you are and how long we could stay here and not get old or get old and not stay here but help each other to the next place over where we can make some more impressions
J.D. Harms 2020
