Touch

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    Touch

    We did not touch,
    although step by step our sleeves' threds
    practiced netless acrobatics trying to grasp on
    to inch us closer

    We did not touch,
    so fearfull of our colorful stares we painted
    the town with wishes of each others eyes
    under her umbrella when our hats and formal
    wear was the rule

    We did not touch,
    strictly finishing each others sentences with the
    shaded side walk much obliging our conversation
    through our owned pathway

    We did not touch,
    our shy distance widened before passing strangers
    who witnessed our bodies scents sweet loving
    themselves into one beating flower

    We did not touch,
    alone as the searing breeze melted the petals which
    cryied red rain as we stood over rejoising in the toe
    deep puddle of our passionate union,our world

    We did not touch



    copyright All Rights ReservedMCN#
    76477-OEM-0011903-00102Luis G. Pizarro II

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    TimG commented on Touch

    10-26-2009

    Wonder how it would have been if U actually did "touch" ? Not bad !

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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