Springtime Dance
She chanced
upon my look,
in a poem,
when her garden was
in full bloom. We spoke
nothing but this poem
and our thoughts
collided. I noticed her,
revealing
the path of intention, while
my mind, naked, in its own volition
as frozen hearts throbbed,
godly. A flickering streetlight helped
us ignite and spread the heat. Or, was it
the poem? Who cares? We tingled
the speechless night, with
hisses, ‘til we had forgotten-
the poem and most of all,
the shyness that almost wasted our springtime dance.
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