A Blank Slate

 

Young lovers stand before the waters

hands linked

hearts entwined.

Silence fills the air, and words,

words, they are—unnecessary.

The cool waters protrude gently upon the shore-

as the forrest’s inhabitants, pardon the couple’s intrusion.

Much time has passed, and they begin to egress.

Mentally, they recall their former selves-

where nature painted yet another perfect portrait,

to display amongst a cluttered shelf.

DOROTHEA FORD