The Shack on the Hill

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The shack, red and old

alone on the hill.

The sheep grazing below.

 

That’s where they meet

at sunset.

The colors play on her face

Her hands play on his hair.

When darkness reaches its fullness

Only touches reveal each other’s presence.

When the moon  rises high

they descend the steps.

Their goodbye is a promise

to meet again

on the next full moon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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