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I awake alone beneath the oak, its great out flung branches reaching for the violet-tinged twilight sky. Sitting up, I know he is gone, his last kiss lingering on my lips. His remembered words of love burning my cheeks with shame. He’s gone.
“Hello, darling,” he says, returning. My heart is redeemed.
© Copyright 2009 C.C. Moore (UN: ccmoore at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
C.C. Moore has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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