Late in the evening
Lovers walking, holding hands
Through the mist of spring
Like a whisper from the void
The new leaves of the oak tree
And the strands of grass
Swaying in the steady wind
Rippling the water
Fracturing the full moon's light
The first frost on the window
Of the small tea shop,
It's been at that location
For over ten years
Her morning ritual
Always includes toast and jam
The edges are chipped,
China from the Goodwill Store
Costs very little
Pleasant daydreams surfacing
A smile upon his face
Passing a sunlit red rose
A butterfly leaves no trace
2 comments:
Beautifully elegant.
Thanks, Brian, for the complement.
Jim
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