Jun 28, 2012

Lake Meditation

My quick pace slows
when the trees spread out
and you come into view,
a satin tarp of golden-brown.

An enamored breeze 
blows a kiss your way -- 
it glides across in ripples.

I stop now and meditate
on your always being here.
You resuscitate me.

I want to be you --
serene, sure. 
- ADM


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