Waiting…

Such beauty in your pristine edge

Precision killer of my stroll

When summer’s heat extends

And pant to unclad leg migrates

In summer breeze that soothes the soul

Exposing flesh to that which rends

No wrath to insects, bees or sheep

Just to my naive naked limb

From what beneath the ivy bends


©Stephen Tanham

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10 thoughts on “Waiting…

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