For Richard Fox
The place that sheltered me
is burning— though no smoke
nor the enticing smell of leaves
crackling in a lit barrel, roadside.
All that is long passed over.
I see you every time I walk
the bend and you come ‘round
from the other way
passing the prickly barberry
your little dog on its leash.
We both smile waving goodbye.
Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty years published writer in all genres. Her current project is an Off-Broadway Play on the subject of art and life.
