1 Sept 2009

last summer dance



here I am

my bare feet scuffle leaves on cold evening grounds
westerly wind curls eyelashes and tickles the back of my neck

I can hear the fox nearby


and


I am finally ready for it


me and the other half of my shadow will dance to celebrate the secrets and sorrows of this grand summer

I wish that all the waters would stop flowing for that moment filled with stubborn grace



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