Golden

06/10/2020

Gold is the summer
Slowly oozing back.
Gold
Fine hairs on my arms
Standing to attention
When gold is hidden by cloud.
Gold rings glint
On searching fingers
Neither promising
Nor committing
Symbol of stolen hedonism.
Gold
The glaze of bread
The drink that froths
Forbidden fruits
On golden afternoons.
And you
My elusive golden boy.