She Waits for Me


She waits for me in watchful silence,
Beyond the borders of the world.

She wears a hooded cape of deep green,
Allowing her to blend in with the trees.

One hand holds a notebook and pen,
The other holds a nut-brown mandolin.

Her smile hides a tendency to drive me
Farther than I'd planned on going.

Her embrace evokes a longing to exceed
The bounds of all my former days and nights.

Her kiss conveys a taste of possibilities
Conceived of as an antidote to dying.

If I ride determined to arrive,
I know that I will reach her in good time.


©2016 Michael Fraley




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