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Open Poetry #47
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Tomer
Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2011-12-08 04:32 PM



Her fingers became like crosses of the belt
where the yellow of her shirt
began to run down oceans drive

Each finger under his shirt
like she was counting time towards another canvass
Where the eyes of her grandmother
could see her dancing, again

Those long strides along Oceans Dr.
with the park at the offset
the running mill against the suns horizon
Her legs all along the right fields of where he use to call home
With his hand on her heart
and the moon like a small child's heart

They ran
Ran like the the wolves to forgive the night

© Copyright 2011 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved
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