Friday, January 2, 2015

Returning to her again


Sage rested on the soft
Sand of the trail, her mouth
Gaping, her tongue aquiver,
Her eyes half-closed, and
Ahead through the trees
Were more places to rest,
Sand at an easy pace.

Returning to her again
Waiting on along
Looking back my only
One back then again
I’ve never accepted
This dying of sage,
Finding another in her place,

And Susan
Waking as she once did
With bright eyes and clear
Sweet smile, but
A little while left
And we’ll both begin again,
Or someone will.

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