Half moon materializes from behind clouds
like the letter D, like you, my double-half-moon
friend, another glowing presence seldom seen
behind this partly to mostly cloudy life of mine.
I think of you, sudden widow, and X., such
beauties, so young both of you on the shore
at the other end of the endless sea between us,
picking shells as the waves roll in and in.


About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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