Thursday, 23 July 2015



Damn, but she was beautiful

lissome as a reed
bending with autumnal
breezes, billowing gossamer seed,
perfumed with sugar must
of fallen leaves
her blush, star dusted,
my Eve

the sand of years,
sifts down relentlessly,
while in my memory's tears
her reflection changelessly
belies the sadness of


Bryan D.Cook  Ottawa, Spring 2015

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