Monday, July 21, 2008

Just a few summery lines

Bare feet dirty except where her sandals had been -
they sit beside her, resting heads bowed in the sun –
grass warm and scratchy, heavy with the dusty honey scent
of clover. She doesn’t search

for the lucky ones, doesn’t pluck petals
one by one, already knows the answer
to that old mystery – she loves me, she love me

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