The Girl and the Dollar

March 17, 2010
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As you walk away,
My throat tightens.

The once warm air becomes crisp,
Without your touch.

The leaves fall gently from the trees,
Blanketing the ground on which you walk.

As if to push you further the wind blows,
Your pace becomes faster,
And I watch your arms swing with each stride.

In the distance I see a child drop a dollar,
And the wind blows that too away.

As I watch her green bill fly through the air,
She quietly continues on her walk,
Allowing the dollar to continue its flight.

I touch my lips still poisoned by your kiss,
And wish that the wind could push you back to me.

I look back to see if your gone; and you are.
And just like the girl and the dollar,
I too, continue on.

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