the secret

the secret

He watches her from a hilly perch
as she sets her hopes and dreams alight,
sends them down the River Styx
on paper boats she made from old poems.

She turns suddenly, pulls her shawl
around her shoulders, makes her way
up the mount. They exchange no words,
no touch, only a knowing glance.


Copyright © 2010 by Christopher Chaffin – All rights reserved


About cjchaffin

Wordsmithing is my passion. I eat, sleep, and breathe words and phrases, only to regurgitate them and pray that they are better off than when I first ingested them.
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