Misty Blue




Unexpectedly, your misty white hand
slipped into my own,
and I can hear you whisper
(damp and damper, still...)
"Come away with me."
Up and up
we go.
"I want to fly you through it,
'til it rests on your hair.
I want to take you everywhere."


***

I travel the long shrouded road
alone
today, until I ascertain that
you have waited for me.
Like an old friend
you make yourself plain, hanging over
mountain peaks,
making white upon white--
and then misty blue.

Comments

  1. You have the most beautiful mountain photographs that always make me want to be right there with you. Your poem is lovely, too.

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  2. Lynn- many thanks to you, dear one.
    Although I (seem to) have a rather small following, I do 'feel like' 'my readers' are with me when i procure a pic. The writing comes to my heart, especially when it is foggy mist; it calls to me...

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