It is that hour of the day, when the church bells ring
The sun burns the tar road, where children play
In this crowd, I search one face
There she is, trying to learn and cope with her white cane
Its been two years, to that incident
All I want to do is hold her small soft hands, and say sorry
But, what I do is stand here, looking at her from far
For I am a coward to admit, that I robbed the eyes of the woman I last kissed Goodbye
Thanks Butterblykisses
ReplyDeleteGo on, you can do it!
ReplyDeleteRosey Pinkerton's blog
:-) that surely, is encouraging
DeleteWow, this is intriguing.
ReplyDeleteThank you dims
DeleteThis is really wonderfully visual--the hot tar road, the small soft hands.
ReplyDeleteThank you jennifer
DeleteHmmm. I wonder if you apologize, will she accept it, or not... Intriguing indeed.
ReplyDeleteBeen a bit busy this week, so hopping by late.
My Midweek Wordle Fiction
I think she may or may not, but she would accept it, no point in not accepting, what is done is done now
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