I enjoy mornings like this,
when everything is bright and yawning awake
with the morning dew
like a fresh layer of tears ...
"I cried for you," she said,
looking at me for the first time.
I turned to her, puzzled,
my eyes searching hers as she looked back to the fields.
"I'm not oblivious. I'm an artist. I feel everything --- intensely ...
Love, especially."
I had no words, just morning dew upon my cheeks,
as I watched her walk away from me
forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment