One sultry evening we were
standing ankle deep at river’s edge,
one thin layer of cotton wafting
on your skin beside me:
my hesitation
formed thunderheads
drenched my skin
drove me to shelter.
But one afternoon
bundled in layers
against the winter
I took your arm:
you smiled
snuggled against me
as we walked
somewhere together.
About riverwriter
Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else?
wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/
Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
So much said in such a little poem. Brilliant! (And thank you for a moment or two of summer weather.)
Thanks. There are moments one wishes to be telepathic (to a certain extent . . .).