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Rosalie Hendon

Adult Montage


We were at a bar.
It was late afternoon, the golden hour.

Athens sunlight slid in the windows,

glazing our shoulders. 


Intoxicated with our legality,

with the sophistication 

of ordering a drink with friends at 4 p.m.,

heels dangling from the stools.


Oh, so this is being an adult. 

This carefree freedom

to sip slowly, savoring.

This taste on the tongue.

This buoyancy in the chest.


Finally feeling part of the scene,

that part of the montage 

where everyone is laughing. 

August Dusk

That time of year you realize

the days are shortening


Air full of summer sounds:

cicadas, the neighbor’s radio,

a mosquito’s whine


The streetlight is on

Halo of bright light casts shadows 

on the darkened porch


The end of summer is nostalgic

Kids back in school, 

cool mornings laced with dew


The turn of the seasons,

the inevitability of winter


The gentleness of the breeze

makes your eyes close

Jeffrey Alfier Matin_Bleu.jpeg
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