boats glide by
on the sea
the sun hot
on my neck
kids play football
on the lawn
beyond the bench
where I sit
a dog rolls over
sunning his belly
and a group of men
build a fire
to roast kebob
though there is peace
in the air
yet there is still
an empty spot
where your hand
should be
Wonderfully beautiful.
Thank you.
I’m sorry.
Thank you.
I read, the kind of loneliness that comes from missing someone, concisely expressed at the last lines, a missing piece of an ordinary day.
Thank you, Alan.
How Romantic, but also pain there so touching.
Thank you, Anna.
That’s it.
Thanks, Jeff.