in a precious moment between the sands of time,
they do not look at one another
but focus rather
on the unfolding trail before them.
Each, acutely feeling the air about them
as they steadily climb the wooded trail
to their private lookout.
Reaching the crest
they sit to calm their racing senses
enthralled by the stunning
palate of a lingering sunset.
Each wonders what the other is thinking,
but neither asks.
Both exhale in long
and they laugh about the synchronicity.
Their eyes exchange a sparkle
igniting a fire
in the cool of the falling evening-
held in the palm of nature,
they made Charlotte Cecelia.
(11- 19- 78)
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