the skipping dirt
puddles around an ancient tree.
as a slow and winding breeze
pushes her to me.
her crinkling skirt
flashes brightly white; faintly oui.
as a small bee buzzes, flees
nimble eyes, hands, knee.
me, awkwardly curt,
stumble greetings, small, barely wee.
as clouds high and lofty, tease;
wafting salt and sea.
pink corollas flirt.
fleeting petals fall, shaking free.
as this small mouth utters pleas;
hoping she could we.
© 2017 rl busséll