image by Martin Stranka
catch me
as i fall
eyes closed
and nonchalant
wind whipped
lockets
tangle around your unseen fingers
grasping
gasping
across clover scented hills
catch my breath
with your lips
breath me in
my essence
swoon with me
until we are floating
through deep mists
and time is nothing
but a fluttering of swifts
on the breeze.
KD
11/5/14
To see the other poets work go to The Mag with Tess Kincard
