We were free spirited teenagers
rolling in the fresh hay
We had just grew out of rough and tumble play
and learned to blush while our skin lightly touched
Those days there were curfews in the village
Watches were not in our posession like time
While our parents folded the night in sheets of peaceful sleep
We were left out in the barn under the October harvest moon
Neither of us knew how to wind down
from that restless playful energy
Our hands shifted from tickling to messing of hair
Our laughter drowned out the cricket’s anthem
Eventually darkness cast over us like a heavy blanket
Our breaths became auditable
rapid, rushing, out of sync
the build-up and pre-warning of a tsunami
The calm moon was unable to rein in the untamed young blood
The Harvest Moon

Wow, Cassa!
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😊
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Such a fantastic build up to the passion. Love this sizzling poem 💜
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Thank you! I really appreciate your comment.
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This is gorgeous…. just beautiful!!
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Thanks Lia!
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