Three Month Sentence

by Laura Lee

 

Three months of

little sun, closed streaked

windows to follow.

​

We had not

used our summer well.

 

We had not slept

under a June blue sky,

toes curled in fresh green.

 

We had not wrapped nights

in tender sighs under stars.

Our nights

were wasted in worry.

 

It’s midnight, love.

 

Let’s slip outside

find the source

of the crescent, the crickets,

the scamperers.

 

Let’s flee with them.