Cravings

She craved that golden glow,

to scoop it from the horizon on her spoon,

like the runny yellow yoke of a soft boiled egg.

She craved the sky as one craves

the bitter sweet bite of chocolate,

lingering at the back of the tongue,

or the promise of coffee

in the slow hours of the morning.

She craved those beach sunsets,

heart aching for them on winter nights

when the sky hung off her shoulders like a weighted blanket

and honey sunshine seemed a distant memory,

captured only in creased photographs

and the recesses of her mind.

She craved the cottage,

its beach

and its gallery-worthy sunsets

year round.