anniversary

one deer blazing across the dark highway
a branch falling from the sky, crackling down
to stick in the earth
near misses, almost calamity
yet the safety of each other
laughter woven into being afraid and lost
in a strange town with cold spaces
and stories pounded into the brick
yellow spiders and strong coffee
dusk in the graveyard
holding your hand

I never want to stop
holding your hand

Comments

[Marilyn]

Lovely. I particularly like, "stories pounded into the brick"...love when I get that sense of a place.