I supposed it did not matter,
how the water shimmered in last light.
Children did not stop their ripe
splashing to glance at rising moon.
Pale beauty was instead interrupted by
their stupid, joyous laughter.
Leaving had taken the last smooth stone
of our love,
and skipped it wistfully on the ripple.


About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
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