a poem

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It came in on the morning tide
Unbidden and not entirely welcome
It was different this time
None of the hot passion of youth
It lay on her shoulders like a favorite sweatshirt
on a brisk September morning
and enveloped her in a different kind of warmth
Even the lovemaking was languid and sensual
like the swells of the ocean
rising, falling and rising again
she was carried away
and awoke on the shores of a distant land
a once familiar place
long ago lost to memory
could it be that love had found her
once again

Written by

father, motorcyclist, old retired guy who’s just a little lost on a blue marble corkscrewing its way to oblivion

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