Sunday, September 4, 2011

Magic

















The crickets chorused almost musically.
A gentle wind blew through the
rolled down windows.
The old car rolled to a stop from its
slow pace across the prairie
to our place,
a hill overlooking the town,
sparkling with lights in the dark, dark evening.
You turned to me and pulled me closer,
smiling, your eyes touching my heart.
Later, when we headed back,
the car somehow found a mud hole
that it had missed on the way out and
became irretrievably stuck.
We walked home, arms
around each other, laughing,
stumbling over sagebrush and
road ridges, startling at scared rabbits
darting away into the night,
singing, kissing, fearless, young.
(Posted for MagPie Tales, Mag 81, 9/4/11)

13 comments:

  1. Beautiful young love, you show it well here.

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  2. nice...you capture well the texture of the night...and those innocent moments...and maybe not so innocent...smiles.

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  3. Love the images of the evening you have captured! Beautiful piece.

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  4. Shanks's pony triumphs again..

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  5. Gorgeous write... a cricket hopped out of the bed linens a little while ago, while I was changing them...

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  6. I'm sure the walk was good for you! What happened about the car? Satisfying Magpie

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  7. Lovely, lovely, lovely! Reminds me of me and my husband when we were younger.

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  8. Another beauty! This one is so vivid, and I swear I lived this scene once upon a time. You painted it so vividly it was like watching a movie. Very nice!
    Here's my offering on the prompt: http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/09/09/he-was-a-ford-man-2/

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