Saturday, March 29, 2008

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The long hall
stretches as far
behind as forward

Dim, dry, dust
rattles across the tiles
dust of love, dust of bones, dust of deeds

I see you there, so far away
in the bright reflected off sand and stone
I hear your voice, echoing across the desert

And remember, a sunny day
hot and full of jonquils, not so long
ago, when we were near to one another

Your hand at my waist, walking
Your arms wrapped around my arms
wrapped around you, face nuzzling your beard

And ache ache ache for that day
and its distance forward or backwards
when we were, simply, two people in love, together





jjl
29 March 2008

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

always good to connect with stretch of the soul a poem provides

that broken piece of crap of the other blog at least keeps me connected to humanity here

they have no idea of the community they formed through Howard and hope

the depth of your well formed words translates well in your space here
(and thanks again for capturing some of mine)

I lost a calf last night but tonight a better outcome and then the long hall the flowers here another turnaround as I lurked past the other blog and clicked the X and hidden behind was this wonder, link still open

thanks again

BTW puddle is due on May Day
Phil

puddle said...

And you, my firend, thank you, too!

Sorry about the calf. I know it hurts even as I know it isn't unexpected.

Yay! For puddle: always did love May Day♡