As Warm by Bruce W NiedtWe seemed to pass in solitude.
A summer was still the ocean
when she lived in a sandcastle
before the tide washed it smooth.
Timeless moments of full moon
casting a shattered silver path on the black Atlantic.
(Lets walk to Spain, she said.)
Watch the moon, the hungry skimmer birds,
the lonely horizon lights.
Only nature is real.
A silent fusion of hands.
We left on separate destinies
without a real goodbye.
And in the kingdom of autumn
nothing is as warm.
If we never meet again,
at least we lived
for a few hours
together.
[Summer 1968] 06/24/2003 Posted on 06/25/2003 Copyright © 2025 Bruce W Niedt
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