Curves
by Tim G. Young
the railroad curve
rounded like her shoulder
followed that line
past the tall water tower
bending my mind
like the light
in a tunnel
following that rail
another hundred miles
as the light meets her eyes
it automatically smiles
and the smiles light the way
when the wind blows the darkness
and the darkness forced to hide
makes the light seem endless
and the curve in your back
leaves the world far behind us
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Author's Note
Nanci Griffith
Other stories by Tim G. Young
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Thanks, Jerry.
The swing is hypnotic, and that climax...yes.
Hi Matt. Thank you.
Very nice poem. Enjoyed.
Thank you, Erika.
Lovely work.
Much appreciated, Gary.
Love the last two lines, Tim.
Me too. Thanks Kitty.
The more I read this the more I like it. The swing is her hips, a samba. This is the best poem I've read here, that I can recall.
I so appreciate your comment, Matt. I was thinking lyrically as this developed. Thanks!
***One of my favorite Tim Young poems!
Nonnie, make my day! Thank you.