| gentle
 
 
the rain must have sprinted down
 
yet above the consequential rising mistis an empty open sky moonlight night
 and horizon just once cloud mountains
 dark and highlit in gentle silver black
 
like seeing the stars through fine girl hairwhen you're sitting alone outside night talking
 on an unseen bench in the summer dark heat
 away from the far heard strong celebration
 with a fresh wind carrying her feminine smell
 and the gentle hush of her speak
 |