Nearly Perfect

Shrimp with pasta, lemon, cream,
And liquor, at a table, set for one,
Within the final warming rays
Of the descending sun. A decent
Life, approaching fullness, missing
Only her. I do miss her.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 23 times
Written on 2011-12-07 at 12:12

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