Cherokee Roses
I laid at your feet as you
Gathered my hair
Like straw
The winds spoke our names
Celestial flutes prophesied
We wore white smoke
From the pipes of my forefathers~Cherokee
Roses blessed our steps as we knelt like deer
Before crystal streams
Leaves’ wrinkled palms landed gently
Upon our heads as we bathed
In bursting flames of fireflies
_____________________
Nostalgia
i can smell your cologne
between the pages of your poetry
a mixture of flowers and wine
did you kiss each page before writing
did your breast pretend to be music
holding a
whole note
your hands must ache
longing to feel timeless
nostalgia
deuce coupe 
Serena Tome writes from the edge of Atlanta, GA. She is the poetry editor for Leaf Garden Press. She has literary work published and/or forthcoming in, Ann Arbor Review, BlazeVox, Word Riot, Calliope Nerve, Word for Word, Moon Milk Review, and many other publications. She is co-editor of Differentia Press. You can find out more about Serena at http://www.serenatome.blogspot.com.