You are here
Somewhere
Standing on a gate
Slowly closing…
There you wait
Beneath the silver sash
Of dewy lawn
Above the splash
Of ocher dawn
Within the tawny burnished leaf
And summer's sighing, barren sheaf
You press against reality
In whispers spilling from the tree
And leaning, like a memory
Deep against the heart of me
In mornings I cannot reclaim
Like the echo of a name
Of someone that I used to know
In a summer long ago
I hear you tiptoe through the corn
You will be here
By the morrow's morn...
J~
No comments:
Post a Comment
I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!