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Melissa seems made for summer afternoons:
Evening waits as she walks in the long light,
Leaving us open to the honey sun.
Intent on ecstasy, she murmurs tunes
Supple and wild as she flits left and right,
Singing unknowing as she dances towards night,
Adrift in our need, her long white hair undone.
All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
