Apple

[maybeawriter]

Apple
Next to us,the couple spoke in French.
A Joni Mitchell ballad played in my head,
While Spring breathed its last breath around us.
Our clothes still clung to our bodies,
Wet from the air of nature's beauty.
The juice that ran down my chin,
From the apple you bought for me,
Its sweetness,
Begged to be tasted.
You spoke of hopes and dreams: Fears and longings
A life from a million years ago hoping for a repeat.
Of summers on the Cape
Making love in the tall grass
Sweet sounds of jazz in the evenings.
The French couple got up to leave
I notice your hair,
One tiny wisp, fallen on your forehead.
Without thought you go to brush it away
And I think
I will remember this moment forever.