Heart STUNG

Does he ever feel her hand in his

or see her in a passing face
or wish that it were her embrace
that lays him down at night?

Does he look up at the stars above

and think of the girl whom he once loved
and of all the dreams and plans they'd made
before being swept apart by fate?

Does she slip into his dreams unbid?
Does he feel her arms? Her legs? Her kiss?
Her heart thumping wildly against his chest
as if it were Summer of '65?

And LOVE?

Oh, how love was sweet,
in his '59 Impala's red leather seats
on a cul-de-sac to a yet-named street,
to a Carolina girl and her Georgia guy -

whose hand's imprint she feels in hers

as though it were yesterday.
So young, that girl whose heart was stung
by a Tech "Yellow Jacket" wearing madras plaid.

And although years and youth have passed
that sting still lasts . . .
and lasts . . .
and Lasts