Summer 1962.
Summer 1962
just you and
her sitting in
some field on
the green grass
beneath a hot
summer sun and
she speaking about
things between
you both and you
not really listening
but hearing a steam
train in the distance
and wondering how
high the smoke went
and seeing it in the sky
and she silent for that
moment and you turning
and looking into her
bright eyes and seeing
in the blue and white
the death of far off
stars in some future’s
long black cold night.
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
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