Eternal

They lay, that day, as friends. Hour on hour, side by side,

 under lingering clouds, bosom dunes for pillow, tide on tide.

They slipped loose tongued in shifting sands, bound close with idle words.

No skin on skin nor exchange of promise intent or harshly heard.

 

Fixed eyes on here and now, they lay under sun,

until the sky once blue, then cayenne, had gone.

And then they knew, for sure, when this day was done

That something fresh and eternal had begun.

Beaverbrooks

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