Mitchel Montagna writes

The Breakup

The sunlight slipped through the leaves and burned my eyes

and stirred the honeyed shadow of her skin

We found milkweed where the bare creek used to rise

Its fragrance spiraled through our heads like gin.

 

There was nothing that I had ever wanted more

We must have hacked through that wild scrub for years

With a half-moon ablaze we rested on the shore

The glow that shaped her face was blurred with tears.   

 

On sleepless nights I still can hear that aching cry

The mourning doves would haunt us like a prayer

When dawn rose it bleached the stars out of the sky

and warmed a breeze that swayed her auburn hair.