After years of being a closet writer, my poems started to tell me they wanted to get out more . I have a roving rambling heart myself so I completely understand . Happy travels .

Tuesday, July 14, 1998

SUMMER COTTAGE

Going, going and ungone
Lingers the pinch to get along
The smell, the sense, the there, the long
Quarters of hours and still ungone
My body pulls like waves to the moon
Trying to catch the distant old tune
Wanting the closer and closer to soon
JUST GET ME THERE FOR SATURDAY NOON!



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