We all remember our first love. It's been decades since mine left me behind. But three months ago, he showed up in a dream so intense, I had to respond. Hence this poem. I just heard he's recently passed on...

                                                  You Are Still Seventeen

                You are still seventeen

                When you slide into the pool of my dream

                Bare-chested, smooth-faced

                Dark hair slicked to one side

                You reach across the water

                I am still fifteen

                When you lace long fingers through mine

                A surgeon’s hands, I say

                You read my palm

                An artist’s hands, you say

                You would be seventy-five today

                Why have you swum out to visit me at 3am

                The last morning of September?

                To say you’re sorry? To say goodbye?

                I will always love you

                    photo credit: Darran Shen, Unsplash