How will we finally say it?
Head tossed suddenly, crimson hair flying,
body angled away and angry?
Drifting, lost, love unsighted
over fog-bound horizon?
Unreturned telephone calls?
Or maybe, just the smallest chance,
a gentle wave of an aged, wrinkled hand,
gesture speaking volumes,
sign recalling decades
filled with shared history
and brimming with love?
InspectAPedia tolerates no conflicts of interest. We have no relationship with advertisers, products, or services discussed at this website.InspectAPedia tolerates no conflicts of interest. We have no relationship with advertisers, products, or services discussed at this website.
This article series contains poetry, prose, short fiction by Daniel Friedman. For more of Daniel's writing see this link: Daniel Friedman's Poetry & Short Stories. Any relationship of text in these materials to persons living or dead is probably not a coincidence.
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