'Til too late he writes her,
mind churning post-dawn;
they said they would walk soon,
perhaps they might talk.
Nine miles of hard walking,
they listened and talked;
"just skimming the surface",
true depths still emerged.
Gold radiance backlit
by amber fall sun;
from within a bright glow,
illumines true beauty.
His muscles were shrieking
gluts, thighs, calves and back,
were aching and sore; but -
his mind cries for more.
A bright beckoning face
across a dull room
has deepening depth now;
unsought attraction.
Damn.
bk