Forty years on,
she follows the path of his ghost,
a slender and thorned road
that leads to a ruined ecstasy.
Above the carpeted dirt,
she remembers the boy’s twitching mouth,
so unaccustomed to casual pleasure,
and the slow burn of tobacco between them.
The last of the afternoon light
dripped between the hemlocks
and fell upon bare shoulders.
And she, alone, still wonders
if he ever smelled the gunpowder.
Ordinary Handsome 
That last line is intense. Wow. Powerful writing, Steven.
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Thank you, D. It surprised me.
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WOW. That last line really packs a punch. I seriously have goosebumps. INCREDIBLE, Steven.
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Thank you, I appreciate that. 🙂
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A great twist at the end, Steven. —- Suzanne
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Thank you, Suzanne. ☺
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God this is good!!!!
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Thanks so much. 😊
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You’re some kind of brilliant my friend
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I don’t know what to say to that. Thank you again.
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Steven –
such gorgeous imagery
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Thank you, AnnMarie, I appreciate that. 🙂
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Wow. Great imagery. Twist at the end. This is great
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Thank you!
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WOW! yup got me too! woah…. 😮
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😉 Thank you again. 🙂
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Exceptional
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Thank you..
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Thank you.
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