In the softness of the golden sun memories sway, flickering
through our hearts,
thoughts of younger love,
of you and I
our boots swishing through the leaves,
with gloves on,
and drawing you close,
in our autumn jackets.
My Love, do you remember
that day in the park?
Note: The park is where I asked her to marry me. We’ve always spent alot of time in parks.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies