In the beautiful quiet of evening light,
while our dreams silently sleep,
give me a moment of those times
when you were once still mine.
Of when we were both sweet and young,
giggling at ourselves—
jubilant and carrying none
of the past.
Of when you and I were so in love
though insults flung back and forth,
though we kept saying we’ve had enough
we kissed until hearts were sore.
Of when your silky laugh caressed
my ears, while reading some fairytale
poems cascading, the story unfolding
all alive and well.
You grip my hands in your own.
The time of your end draws near.
You murmur your thanks, though my pain
you now sow along with my fears.
Say you’ll stay, or we’ll meet again
in the Garden of Eden, in seas of heaven—
we’ll whisper your sonnets in golden light.
I close your sorrowfully innocent eyes.
Your hand won’t let go,
and I find myself singing
Robin Goodfellow is a poet who enjoys reading fairytales, zombie novels, and studying society. She has been published in the Haiku Journal, Nature Writing, and The Healing Poems.