if she saw me
when she decided to
bend over to
pick up her bag and go
past the last tree
on the right.
My eyes did not seem
responsible
for the light
of a fresh sunbeam
that caught her full
and quite heavenly
body (smooth –
bedded or tanned
like warm sand).
It was for me
to watch and move,
maybe even to remember
what comes with these warm days,
all endless
as that beam; that light
had to caress her;
another shade among the rays.
Writer/Reader/Poet/Dreamer... Kendall is a college instructor, experimenter with the written word, and someone who thinks that books are worth saving. (Also: librarians and snail mail—damn you, Canada Post and certain school boards!) I just hope that someone gets a laugh and enjoys my work...
