Summer

The last word I etched, was
of you
The last heartbreak I wrote
down, was because of you, though
this pen a little dusted, had
put it down after you,
couldn't be trusted
June, it's been a while
the seasons changed but
some thoughts Remained
sweet fingertips, last
September at last I wrote
about your lips
I wrote because I was in love
with a boy last summer
now I reflect, peaches come
into bloom
as the ink on my paper lights
up
the last poem I wrote, it was
of your touch
but now I record the words
because the suns,
beautiful
the night sky becomes
peaceful, and my
wonders are at
ease
my pen now one of
release