Writing 201 Poetry Day Seven: Fingers, Prose Poem – And I Walked Home Alone

pamtanzey-poetry-proseposem-walkhomealone

And I Walked Home Alone

He was playing his guitar unaware of time or

waves of heat that hung above the sand and it was beautiful

just as I remembered from those summer nights when

June bugs crashed around the porch light.

Afterward we drank some beers and watched the moon come up

across the avocado grove.

He was playing his guitar and as I paused to listen

I watched his fingers dance across the strings just as I did

those summer nights so very long ago.

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One Response to Writing 201 Poetry Day Seven: Fingers, Prose Poem – And I Walked Home Alone

  1. Lovely images and detail. Moody.

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