She sat on the grass
beneath the summer sun
looking at you
as if for the first time
and as she looked at you
you looked beyond her
at the distant sky
and how the clouds
resembled a woman’s bust
and how humorous it was
when an airplane
went right through
on its way to some far off land
and as she took your hand
she said things about love
and how she felt
and did you feel the same
and you taking the image
of the airplane
and woman’s entered bust
said oh yes of course
trying not to let it show
on your 14 year old face
how funny that image seemed
and not realizing how deeper
and more loving she was
back then beneath
that summer sky
with you thinking
of that day and her
and her later death
and you hearing
in the silence
of the drawn out dawn
her soft words
in her prayerful breath.
Her Prayerful Breath.
Re: Her Prayerful Breath.
well done...a touching memory that connects with the reality that our life experiences greatly influence our perspectives.....is the photo from that very day?
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
Re: Her Prayerful Breath.
just about 1963 and me in my first own bought suit.Thank you.
Re: Her Prayerful Breath.
I am not afraid of death and I'm not put-out by (appropriately) dying people and I have watched more folks breath out than I can count at this point...and I'm not that old...but I hate the broken love. I hate the mistakes. I hate the distractions I know will haunt me.
But I love the poetry.
But I love the poetry.
"Every genuinely religious person is a heretic, and therefore a revolutionary" -- GBShaw
Re: Her Prayerful Breath.
you have knocked the nail on the head, Joel. Thank you.
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