Mooonlit walk to chat on the phone
with a far-away friend who feels like home.
Skirting puddles in shoes not water-tight,
the cold water only visible by moonlight.
Their reflections are serene and silvery,
each puddle beaded up like mercury.
Fall is coming and my arms are chill
soon frigid air my breath will fill.
My heart is pumping, my step is fast--
talking and walking puts the breathing last.
I miss her I do, and our cozy chats over tea
and I nostalgically sigh at the full moon I see,
shrouded up there by a comforting midnight blue…
why are tranquil walks like these so few?
©Ellen H. September 2013
For Cassie.
No comments:
Post a Comment