Keeping a recommended distance,
Is very hard to do,
When everything in my head points to you,
So upon the white picket fence I'll stay,
Watching the clouds get blown away,
By winds so icy cold they scar,
Torn silk and feathers in tar,
Hurried hands of the clock tick-tock,
Yet time stops fast as flesh would rot,
Hiding yet exposed to all but you,
No last lines here, no obvious clue,
I am keeping a recommended distance,
I will always feel the resistance.
© Copyright 2017 Kathleen Oakwood. All rights reserved.
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