by Jennifer Franklin
What I wish for is not
what you’d expect—
more time. Everyone
laments the hourglass’
rapidly funneling sand.
But it’s the empty years
without him I want to have
known him. I want
his eyes, full of orange
sunset at edge of the cape,
to burn my eyelids the way
the sun burned my legs
the one afternoon we walked
the thin stretch of beach
with the tired dog.
— from Juniper Volume 4, Issue 2