Wrong season for this one, I suppose, but I trust you’ll forgive me if I share it anyway. 🙂 Though it wasn’t written with them in mind, specifically, it always makes me think of Mac as a badly scarred adult, and Sarah, who showed him the way back. Enjoy!
Indian Summer
Marcia Meara
He sees her standing
Below the falls,
Carefully balanced
On the slippery rocks,
And laughing
In the hazy October sun.
Only yesterday
The ice-rimmed pool
Mirrored angry gray clouds,
And a wind out of the north
Chilled his bones.
Today, a warm yellow sun
Has eaten the frost,
And resurrected the ghost
Of a summer already laid to rest.
She’s wearing shorts,
As if she knew
There would be a reprieve
And dressed accordingly.
Dampened hems, and a
Misty sheen on
Her long, slim legs
Bear testament to
The wind-blown spray.
Her loosened hair is a
Sable…
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