Only Love

by Mark Carver

Sometimes I sit and I think

I think about all those times and places

the women who I have loved

and the women who have loved me.

I wonder what they think about

when time is short

and life is as still as the wings of a bird of prey

and memories are long

like the sun at daybreak

as it pushes along the world

I can see them at a kitchen table

the candle flickering

and just maybe they think of me

and how I would love to touch them one last time

and tell them

it was only, ONLY love.