Sad Lines
why the sad lines
circle your face
running together a maze
of love ruined by time
no more the autumn sun
will set in your eyes
or the summer nights touch your shoulders
bouncing reflections into a heavenly circle
racing to meet the shore
the salt water caresses your hands
buried so softly in white cashmere sand
waiting...waiting...words are no longer
the salvation needed from this uselessness
of trying.
John J. Kazlauskas is retired and lives in Tucson Arizona where he writes , paints swims and cooks.
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