The Reality Of Me.

I ache to be lost in the serenity
Of late summer.
When everything is coming to rest,
But that one final bloom
Upon the peaks of Derbyshire.
A moment in time
As fleeting as the hope I have
That today will be the day
I meet you on the hill.
And of corse,
Before I dry my hair,
The reality of me
Fractures my mind.
The smile on my face
Cracks
Then breaks
From the weight of unattainable joy.
My morning shatters about my feet,
And I follow.

I cannot meet you on the hill.
Not today.
– Essie Parker Walsh