Crossing Paths at the Twenty Line

Crossing Paths at the Twenty Line

She held the white tea cup up close

so to treasure the warmth of the moment

as cleansing wisps of steam

gathered around her youthful face

featuring the prospects of promise

and framing passions of anticipation.

It was a cold day in November

Waiting at the twenty line

And holding on to remember.

His uncertain hands grasped at fate and froze

at winter’s turbulent call of torment

as both curses and prayers are in a scream;

his weathered face strained and lined with grace

his eyes seeing calmness

the way here; the way there; the unknown a linear equation.

It was a cold day in November

Waiting at the twenty line

And holding on to remember.

Crossing paths at the twenty line

Number nine - number nine – number nine