dash

alone


there comes a day
when the grass is cut
and the garden kempt
and you in your garden chair
in the evening sun and light breeze
sipping a beer
muscles relaxed and mind clear
see an old enemy passing by
he smiles, says hello
how easy it would be to ask him in

Tristan Moss



If you have any comments on this poem,  Tristan Moss  would be pleased to hear them.

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