The Wooden Path

Upon the wooden path
We walked with sandy feet;
With pleasures in the aftermath
Of almost day complete

In salience of love,
And quietude of mind,
Translucent Brandeis up above
Our footsteps slat-confined

But in a sudden breath
Of summer warm sea-air;
I realize, as certain death
That you were never there

As footsteps echoes die
The waves no longer play;
Togetherness was just a lie
The picture fades away

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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