Monday, October 26, 2009

Four Points Of The Globe.

It is etched in my memory.
A bridge was built from your sad smile to mine
as the train swayed gently from side to side.
Colourful warehouses and dreary rain streaked past the frosted windows.
My hands did not want to leave yours.
My body did not want to leave your side.
Illusions of a grand love.
But reality found me down the rusted tracks.
Home called me back to her comfortable surroundings.
Separation was near.
It was just a holiday.

It is just a memory.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.