Water
pours
crystal clear…
I taste
the pureness,
I see you,
horses pounding
around the curve
and my heart
yearns
for the look in your eyes,
that is a reflection
of me,
of something I can’t
quite touch
like the porcelain
gift,
challis
surface gleaming
in a dark room
where memories
stir
my waking
and I touch
the hidden ache
of longing…
©Lea Goode-Harris, Ph.D.
September 13, 2003