When they stopped talking to me,
I knew I shouldn't have been surprised,
but I was,
and more importantly,
I was hurt.
Friends for years, and when I leave, I guess they leave too.

~

~Marmalade skies~



one spoon at a time they feed

the morning horizon

Soft offerings of color

picked ripe from the vine



~Cantaloupe dreams~



a small slice of moon

the dawn’s crescent smiles on me

with a Cheshire grin

cocked slightly to the side



~Plum pudding blankets~



suspended above life, moving slowly

but coming of the day

as alarms break the solitude

nestled in down pillows



~Raspberry whispers~



singing the scent

of the fresh sunrise dew

on wishes coated in sparkling splendor

and footprints beyond the gate



~Nectarine blessings~



sweet on my lips

beneath an orchard arbor

I hold you close of my morning

and taste the bounty of your love

Because real people resort to being fake; I resort, to hiding my identity.