8. “Towards C.C.D…”
(…continued…)
The day turned slowly
like ages passing by,
By evening
the cuckoo sang sweet from the sky.
Golden light spread
on the far horizon wide,
A shy rosy blush
on their cheeks gently smiled.
The day lived on like a poem of dreams,
The hours of waiting felt heavy, it seems.
The moment to meet was now very near,
Their ride moved ahead, to C.C.D., clear.
Heartbeats raced with a hurried sound,
Silent stories
on trembling lips were found.
With every step, their smiles grew more,
Yet flowing emotions
hid in their eyes’ core.
A story unfinished till yesterday’s light,
Perhaps at C.C.D.,
it would turn whole and right…
