Poems. . .


Searching . . . 

Searching faces . . . looking for traces . . .  and then,

your longing eyes meet mine – – – and hold . . .

This time? Should I?

Gathering rocks, watching fireworks . . . together?

Sharing smiles, thoughts, and simple dreams – together?

Tender caresses, leading to longing kisses, and still,

. . . together!

So near, growing so dear . . . but how long?

One day alone . . . or perhaps maybe two?

And then – one week turns into another, and still,

. . . ao near, so dear!

Shall I dare this time? Would you still be mine?

But now the phone lies still – long days, lonely nights.

Stumbling and fumbling . . . tears and fears.

But I’m still growing . . . never knowing just why!

Why care? need? desire? or even hope?

Was his name Tim . . . or maybe even Don?

But does any of it really matter now?

after all,

.  . .  isn’t he still gone?

Ethel Lewis – ’86

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One Response to Poems. . .

  1. Mary Jo says:

    Very nice.

    Like

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