we sat, together on the bridge talking of things important and dreaming of days gone by i knew that in three short weeks this so-called heaven tucked away in the woods would miss my glad young feet but until then time remained like a lazy river mine to let run by, mine to watch lazily and mine to try and grasp in the last days for now, i looked at the lake, at the fading sunset and at the time-watcher beside me and knew that she felt the same way they all felt the same way because this time was ours for keeping now that river is slipping away from me and i grasp it tighter and tighter but the tighter I squeeze, the more it seeps through so until the next time-watching days come i'll sit in my suburban jail and look through picture albums and songbooks until she and i, again can sit on that bridge dangling our feet in the lake and talking about things important
Reason for writing:
This is a poem about a camp i go to which i love so much
Birth sign: Not entered
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View more poems by Emily Simon (saggitarius).