My hands clasped tight in his
a wool sweater stretched across his shoulders
even with all that sweat in the room.
A distant Scotland called up in his pale green eyes
feels so close now.
The band reverberated in our chests
like we were the last piece of music.
The large murmur of hearty crowds
wrapped us in its large arms
holding us close to the heart of the earth.
Laughter lived dear in those days,
choosing her moments to erupt and linger
like the sting of a crisp wind across your face.
Always turning back the next moment to push you further.
How many ways are there to say we were happy,
after all.
About the Creator
Katarina Tyler
Tre Fou
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.