Get Your Premium Membership


At the stroke of noon
We drift apart,
The will and the drive,
To avoid the intense heat
And glare of the sun;
You seek the cool shade
Of the trees
And I, the water
Of a lake.
Measured visually,
Three long strides
That erase fear, deprivation
And the end,
Separate us
That we two traverse
By the time 
The sun leaves the sky.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Post Comments
Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.