#16

by Ann Pedone

We have survived the

Storm of falling

In love the smell

Of apple and lilies and

Brown sugar fresh

On your mouth and you

Half

Asleep there is

Something blooming in the

Sweet moss of your hips

Wet with patience and wild

Joy that is your body

Made new in love the last

Of night’s

Milky fingers I pull the sheets

Up to your shoulders

And dream

We are

Young again

Stars

Just a little before dusk

About the Author

Ann Pedone graduated from Bard College in 1992 with a degree in English Literature. She has a Master’s degree in Chinese Language and Literature from UC Berkeley. Ann’s work has recently appeared in, Neologism, Ornery Quarterly, Unbroken Journal, Alba, Riggwelter, Main Street Rag, Poet head, among others. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.