I sit down, and I hear a rustling outside. Probably a raccoon,Sifting through the garbage. I do not get up.
Go, lovely Rose……That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Edmund Waller(at 85)
Atop a roof we sat. 40 floors off the ground Wind blowing through our hair We both smiled.
The days are longer here. Why? I do not know.
I beckon you onto the porch,And you come out.
We stand there,Two souls togetherSharing a moment.
You’ve got the distanceattached to your soles— wipe it off while you’re standing on my doormat.