Poem: Meeting


clipart for Meeting


                       On the bridge, he sips her breath,

                       seals her back, is of her shape


                       what she is not. I am already that

                       which they abhor – my unintentioned


                       place in their sun, intrusive. If

                       those waters could keep their gaze,


                       I’d slip into shadow, retrace my

                       own false steps, turn up elsewhere –


                       though when I first began, this path

                       was mine. They notice me – and


                       part. Half a step beyond, I am

                       tempted by their love to try again.  


                                                                         © Diane Beaty


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2 Responses to “Poem: Meeting”

  1. 47whitebuffalo Says:

    wonderful poem–oh what tempts us …

    photo reminds me of Agate fossil beds…

    • planetcity1 Says:

      The bridge in the poem is a wooden bridge that crosses over the Alafia River. It’s part of a park trail that does a two mile loop, and I wasn’t expecting anyone to be on the bridge that day as I hadn’t heard any voices as I rounded the curve that leads to the bridge. He was standing so close behind her that they appeared as one, both of them silently staring into the gentle swirl of water. No words needed between them in that moment of time.

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