As we walk along the woodland path, hand in hand,

tasting the scent of freshly mown grass,

and pine needles’ falling whispers by the little brook

gurgling across the shale, we stop and sit and took

time to talk, making our escape from the carbon scent of city walks,

and spoke of summer.


Days spent by the shore, by the pier and

time spent under the clear Atlantic sky. Near

each other, heart in heart, on the sand and

water, watching too casually the curves

of your swimsuit best left unmentioned here.


Days long and hours short

only nineteen, we swam and slipped and slid

across the wet sand through the ocean waves

always hand in hand


staying out until hours late and talking  lovers talk

and how lucky we were to sit in the stillness and silence

and dark by the shore and the waves and the sand,

then driving you home, still hand in hand.


Nikon D7000 Nikkor 50mm f/1.8


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