By M. E. Riddle
Hanging gulls in the sky
A helicopter drones by
Birds sing, the phone rings.
She has water
I have a beer
Sliding over, she wants to be near.
The clouds are lovely, I’ll say
And she wonders aloud
What it’s like in Bombay.
We live in a dream
Casting pebbles in ponds
Chasing the rings.
The wind starts a dance
The minds’ eye in a trance.
You are a friend
Again comes the wind
And we are dancing again.
© Copyright 2016 meriddle. All rights reserved.
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