Days drip warm honey 
colored sunlight through 

verdant velvet cutouts
maple and oak. 

Your wheat stalk hair and 
China rose cheeks 

sweat beads a diadem
while wind-chime laughter rises on the breeze

I click you into a memory 
already overexposed.

Katelyn Botsford Tucker is a teacher and writer. She paints, is often caffeinated, and absolutely terrified of outer space. You can find her on Twitter @KatelynBotsford.