I remember the evening
which was a Sunday
like the Sun remembers the East,
Not because it was magical
I thank God it was tangible
Nothing of dreams
or the faraway tree.
I remember it
like Dorothy does her slippers
ruby and gold
sparkling in moonlight
a teenage dream taking flight,
Or like a fish to water
Natural and with ease
because you were there
a face without a name
and I, without a care.
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WP #10: sunday evening
Link your response to this prompt, below.
This was beautiful; the image paired with your prose perfectly.
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Thank you very much! ☺️
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