After twelve friends road-trip to Boston for a concert, three of us wind up in Cape Cod. Ah, to be young and free.
Him and you and me
He is what he Iz
And was unaware, I think
That you were the player
And I was the game
We sat in the sand
And the breeze and the sun
In the languor of little sleep
Your hair was wild around your face
The sun a halo behind you
And I caught you looking at me
The look was not for me,
It was yours alone
Contemplative, gentle
Like a father gazing
Upon the sleeping mother
of his sleeping child
The look was real
And made it possible for you to steal
My heart away.
Then the playing resumed
And you tossed it back
Like a hot potato.
Poetry by Nancy Sikora
Read 637 times
Written on 2011-01-10 at 19:53
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
On a Cape Cod Beach
I remember us threeHim and you and me
He is what he Iz
And was unaware, I think
That you were the player
And I was the game
We sat in the sand
And the breeze and the sun
In the languor of little sleep
Your hair was wild around your face
The sun a halo behind you
And I caught you looking at me
The look was not for me,
It was yours alone
Contemplative, gentle
Like a father gazing
Upon the sleeping mother
of his sleeping child
The look was real
And made it possible for you to steal
My heart away.
Then the playing resumed
And you tossed it back
Like a hot potato.
Poetry by Nancy Sikora
Read 637 times
Written on 2011-01-10 at 19:53
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
one trick pony |
Lawrence Beck |
countryfog |
Texts |
by Nancy Sikora Latest textsOrnithology and BotanyEcho Gun Show Girl Held By The King E.T. in the Shed |
Increase font
Decrease