by Courtney Burk

do you remember that night,
we spent getting wine drunk in the yard

dusk’s last few sunbeams bouncing between the trees

we laugh at the audacity of the homeric hymns
painting Persephone as a helpless goddess,

the dark lord stole away the bride of spring
you recite a line of my own poetry

i blame my flush on the wine

the bottle long discarded
and we sit in perfect silence

strands of our hair tousle together
guided by a cool gentle wind

and with shocking clarity the realization

that each moment could be our last,
and that this, this feeling, this now memory,

is why the gods envy our mortality.

Courtney Burk

Courtney Burk is a writer from the mitten state. She enjoys long walks along the great lakes with her husband and rescue mutts. Her work can be read at and on social media

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