She walked beneath the moon
As lone dogs with timbered bark
Longed for owners return
This, she understands well
The ache of an empty place
Physical or within the folds
Of a secret origami heart
That desire without perfect description
If it would cry out
O moon, let not
One more hour pass 
Without feeling the tenderness
Of returning love
And the dogs, small, large, mutt and pedigree
Bay to silver sliver in autumn sky
May hap wishes are stones skimmed
Catching light, as shooting star
Or nothing more
Than harth and home
For wherever you are
That is my destination
I may stand beneath the wide sky alone
Yet it is you I see, with you I belong

0 Replies to “Destination”

  1. Many of us long for a love that is ours–the can be ours and ours alone. When one finds it, has it, I imagine it’s a beautiful thing:
    “Bay to silver sliver in autumn sky
    May hap wishes are stones skimmed
    Catching light, as shooting star
    Or nothing more
    Than harth and home
    For wherever you are
    That is my destination
    I may stand beneath the wide sky alone
    Yet it is you I see, with you I belong”
    A beautiful thing, indeed. Just as the above lines.

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