Sylvia

Sylvia

You know better
Sylvia
The time spent
in the desert

in each other
Between the roses
and the riddles of life,
Too old
to go home
Too young
to make our own
So
we sat
barefoot
in circles
Passing green bottles
Rolling the dice
on what was before us
or
at least what could be seen.
But
Sylvia
You and I
both know
now
It was only a mirage,
a shimmering illusion,
The bounce of light
off metal panels and hubcaps,
Trash on fire.


- Copyright Hope A. Horner, 2013. Online use/forwarding permitted. Offline/print use with permission only. Contact author on Facebook or email on gmail at hopeh1122.