The last time that I
saw her she
was wearing
a broad straw hat
that shaded
her face
and shoulders from
the sun.
Now and then the saddle
creaked beneath her and
the horse seemed
impatient to get
somewhere.
I dont remember what
we talked about.
My memory only knows
that it was good
to see her.
Wonderfully concisely worded. My first poem read in the new dawn.
ReplyDeleteWell, thanks, Kirk. Sorry I just found your comment.
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