At The Movies In Another Spring
It must be spring - yes, it must be spring
that makes his heart remember the heat of her
pale hand touching it as sun thawed a great lake
by which they sat - and by which they will never
sit again - yes, it must be spring that makes
him recall her mobile dimpled face when on a dark
screen, the image of an face - an onlooker to
the scene of action really - flickers briefly,
only very briefly like that spring, this movie.
My Poems
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