Striking Fires Of Our Own

Poem By Donal Mahoney

Although we'll never again
be body to body or mind to mind,
you and the place and the years
are alive every night in the letters
I've stored in my room.

In your letters it's still
that day in July
when we met on the hill,
with trees in applause
and the sun all over the water.

In your letters we're always
body to body, mind to mind,
far out on the sea,
kissing and striking
fires of our own on the water.

Comments about Striking Fires Of Our Own

You have such a gentle way of molding your words into sweet sculpture. PEACE

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