Day dreaming about his love.

Cold driving rains
boil the warm water’s surface
of my favorite lake,
where under the canopy
of an old oak tree,
I sit alone,
gazing in wonder,
as I see you
in the mist.

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Comments (1)
  • prospector68 on Aug 10, 2010

    Short and a good poem. I like simple and deep. Good Job!

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