Rebecca Brice

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

So many years

And more

Her hair was long

We were on the beach

Sand in our toes

We were just kids

With the gulf at our feet

Some friends in-between come and go

But she stayed

And I stayed

Now both above the

Mason-Dixon line

Both searching

For the love not yet discovered

It’s what makes us

Cry like the violins of the philharmonic

Not seen enough

But nestled deep within

And never forgotten

© 2012 David Greg Harth

12.09.29.12:12:03@130BklynNYC