Gaps
Under the silver of foamed clouds
I called you back, and dragged feet arrived,
Leaning in the shadow of our old tree
Near the flowering bushes of rain,
Then your arms gently rubbed
my back against icy pines.
I heard your chest breathing softly
But why, without a faint sigh of warning
Restlessly, you walked away. Was it my need
To be around you, when all you wanted was to
Stay with your own thoughts in the fullness of dawn break?
Copyright © Rhoma Em | Year Posted 2013
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