For Thou Art With Me
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a sigh, beaming ...
'je n'ai pas peur' she answered
though the question's intent
was to part more than just lips.
he latched her hand
tugging her up the wrought iron spiral
'rooftops!' he cried, 'rooftops and red skies!'
they ran out onto the tar-paper flat
giggling like prayers
the sun had just plunged the ragged city reach
lighting the wispy cirrus ablaze
a hundred shades of crimson swirled above
dancing her gaze
dark and dear and deadly dangerous.
heaven there in those obsidian orbs, he mused
an inky Zion afire ...
a perfect abyss in which to drown.
they ran to the edge and stopped, breathless
he kissed her again, far deeper
and waited ...
'i am not afraid' she repeated
this time in his language
and hand-in-hand they flew off
into the eventide.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Pick 3, Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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