by Helen Losse

We spoke quietly, so as not to
disturb the others, the night we
talked in his car.  The age-old

questions, complicated by sex
and race, ignored, since even
the trees saw how I loved him,

and how, in answer to prayer,
he held my lighter hand in his
hand, both larger and darker.

Friendship by Helen Losse

© Copyright 2004. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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