Sunday, February 9, 2025

Gentle Love

Past the rush of first kisses 
Now where my soul goes to rest
Lying in the tall green grass underneath the sun cycle of many years
With the backdrop 
of the snowcapped mountains
50 miles away but close enough to touch
My head on your shoulder, our place in the world found, eyes closed 
Listening to the waves of the Sound
Break on a shore of beach glass and rocks 
Hearts full, hands entwined
Breathing in the spice of evergreen trees freshly washed in the soft,  silent mist

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