©2019 by Poetry Society of South Carolina. Proudly created with Wix.com

Sandy Eubank Memorial Prize

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.