Tags
acceptance, animals, dance, Fear, humor, life, music, Nature, poems, Poetry, seasonal, seasons, Snakes, summer
We looked deeply into each other’s eyes,
Your head held high and proud,
Mine slightly lowered and held fast as we
Passed in the grass.
I spoke briefly, noticing how you had grown
Through the summer,
And thankfully you didn’t hiss a reply
But smoothly glided on,
The perfect glissade to my Texas two-step
In the opposite direction.
Phyllis Moorman 