At this reservoir

pinewood-reservoir

Inhaling her scent, thankful for moments

a smile she flashes while reading

her, to me, filling my heart up fast.

I wonder, does she know

how much brighter my life

how she so easily takes

a gloomy day, then turns, says

I’ll take care of you soon

whispers, loon.

It seems as though fish

aren’t striking my bait, but

perhaps they too

are listening to her every word

mesmerized by the coo

she softly whispers into

the very depths of my longing soul.

 

 

5 Comments

burn baby burn

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