by Mary Boggs Garcia
Green is the lush forest. Green, soft and cool.
The tender feel of each blade of grass under my feet is refreshing.
A patch of the desert awaits me in the center of the forest.
Yet, here the grass is cool and the air is moist.
Small beads of sweat form on my brow.
I walk slowly, searching for him.
The cool breeze relieves my desperate search.
Reminding me of the past.
Reminding me of nights of passion.
Reminding me of the evenings of laughter.
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