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Terry Horn

Author & Poet

yours and mine

here we are
miles apart
luck would have
us seeing clearly
thru the mind’s eye

yours and mine

together at last
feeling the shame of
thoughtlessness

hold me hold my
hand feel the fingers
as they reach for
your dignity

clearify lust
let it die
let it come back
angelic and pure

how
can anything be
so giving

i was trained
to be
a monkey on a
leash
dancing circles
accordian secured
by a strap to
my chest

then
i began
to play

mine and yours
and the tennessee
moonlight
waltz

 

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