Saturday, October 25, 2014

One afternoon

One afternoon, we ran away from it all. . .
Projects spinning on their rims
Deadlines, cooling like crusty magma
We let it all go to voice mail.

Hand in hand, we ran, drove, flew
to where valleys envelope us,
like apple rinds coiled around the foothills
sweetly fragrant flames, rusting in the wind

The sunlight is our trumpet, bright as brass
big as the smiles we use to fill each other
great sails of light. . . our sun on a string
we face each other, and let all shadows

fall behind.

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