oh, to sit on that ledge
to run my fingers through the moss
the thickness of it, the paleozoic fullness
scale-like leaves pressed tightly to their stems
a bead of dew on each, wetting my hand
oh, to curl my fingers into the depth of it, smiling
she stands at the far bridge end.

1. 
   nina 2008 02 22 at 5:21:08 pm

   I feel like I’ve seen one of these photos, or maybe I’ve just been there.  Makes me miss Seattle a whole bunch.

2. 
   Theriomorph 2008 02 22 at 8:20:27 pm

   Lovely, sensual, and sad.