Spring

Now, I don’t know

if she saw me

when she decided to

bend over to

pick up her bag and go

past the last tree

on the right.

My thoughts did not seem

responsible

for the light

of a fresh sunbeam

that caught her full

and quite heavenly

body (smooth –

tempting and tanned

like warm sand).

It was up to me

to watch and move,

maybe even to remember

what comes with these warm days,

all endless

as that beam; that light

which caressed her,

and me, a shade among the rays.

*

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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