Touch
A poem
Today’s poem is another exercise in simplicity of syntax and imagery. I wrote it some time ago after a visit with my mother. Perhaps its touch will linger.
Touch
I feel the touch of your
fingers on my own
long after we’ve parted
and gone our own ways. Thank you for reading Every Other Sunday. Have you subscribed? Please do, and if you know someone who might enjoy EOS, please share. Comments are welcomed. Please tell me what you think.