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guy scutellaro
Poems
Dec 2020
emilys hill road
along emilys hill road
the trees are bare
she's skipping stones
across st martens creek
as she turns
smiling my name
her breath comes out
white clouds
mingles
and hangs in the air
the quiet
stillness
in her eyes
she sees something
in me
that I can't
see
and that s why
i love her so
emilys hill road
unchanged
the trees are bare
she's skipping stones
across
st. martins creek
I believe that's the way
I remember her best
Written by
guy scutellaro
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