I’d spent the afternoon fishing, swimming, picking berries, in a quite warm June, at William Teddy’s Park,
The day was almost done, as I walked my way home, reluctantly, but as promised, before dark,
Life can touch you tenderly when young, before its harsh realities are loudly to your psyche sung,
It rose from so low in the eastern sky, I saw it as I turned to watch the gulls, over Wawa Lake, fly by.
Large, wondrous, hanging over Highway 101, as if born at its end, from whence I came, but of which I could no longer see.
It rose, silently, beautiful, a spectacle of sight, a memory forever, as it filled my heart and soul with glee.
Life can touch you tenderly when young, before its harsh realities, to your psyche are loudly sung.
Michael Allarie
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