now almost soon

Squinting.
I can almost see you
with vintage eyes
a scent of what’s it called… Old spice,
and a river of snakes just there…

Beware!
it’s not for me to f
a
ll
or fail.
Your touch…

soft and strong
definite and defining
reassuring and exciting
I am smiling and

seeing again for the first time
the sunburn soon to hurt.

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About Debbie Shahar

My thoughts, fears, feelings... intertwine. They change. I do not sometimes. They too sometimes stay the same. The song in me wants to fly free. The bird has it. I need it. I cannot Let me be. "Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning." (1-4, Stevie Smith, from: Not Waving but Drowning") background image of Gravatar: photographer AB Troen, my youngest brother.

Posted on July 26, 2012, in poem, Poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Reblogged this on YOSEPHRAEL and commented:
    Powerful.

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