Sandy Eubank Memorial Prize
Spring 2016
Tim Harkins

Blue Skies

On the radio, Duane
still slides sunshine from the strings
of his guitar while Greg sings
blues skies.  I sing it with him
and recall the lazy spring
afternoons, soft sun streaming
onto our tangled legs when
I knew love lasts forever.  
For a moment I can still
believe it despite the dives
littered with broken bottles
of retaliating hearts.  
Our choices obliterate
our innocent horizons.  
The band still plays.  I slowly
savor the summer’s last peach.  
©2016 Tim Harkins