When the morning came in through the window
and painted every small hair on your shoulder golden,
you jumped from the bed and pulled my hand-
you said that today was the day.
Later in the dusk I wondered quietly
what day it had been- your shoes glowing
in the evening, I stood and watched your retreat.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
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1 comment:
my gosh. this poem makes you feel like you are...inside it.
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