Zona

The sonnet post

I saw a picture today of a stunning woman and a beautiful ghost that watches over her. I felt warm breezes of summer. The kind of breezes that send you to the shade of the willows after a while.

The laughter of children and the gate of a proud horse and the birds are happy to be singing out in such a place of wondrous tranquility.

I felt myself blessed to have been able to see with my eyes that which other miss.

A slow dance in a moonless evening.

A hand in the small of a back barely touching as the two silhouetted dancers glide in circular motion.

Maybe this seems like smooth seduction but I am not the man for her nor she the woman for me.

I just reach across the time and space to touch that face one time with my hand.

I know.

I know the deep river that is her soul.