(18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

Clear Water

into clear water.
The light
hurts my eyes,
the warmth
protects me
from myself.

I see your hand
in the water.
An open hand,
waiting for me
to grab it,
to grab life,
to grab fear,
to embrace you.

The shore
can no longer be seen.
I float
into your arms.

by Pia Andersson

Comments (2)

aw....such a sweet thought...to share a dream...just like a dance it could be replayed over and over again
Nice poem David, good Job.