Amber, Beaux Bo and I were sitting out by The Creek and as the aging sun began to set, slivers of bright orange and yellow worked their way through the Crape Myrtles and danced in the reflective waters of our fair Creek. I watched my sweet Amber rise and walk along the edge of The Creek to pick up something that had caught her eye. It was no longer the confident walk of a younger Amber and I could feel her pain as she slowly moved along. Then a squirrel, spooked from its watering hole, darted across her path and she turned to me and smiled the same smile as the younger Amber I fell in love with so many years ago. I am indeed a lucky man if only I wasnt such a whiner, if only I had Ambers resolve.
Posted on: Wed, 23 Oct 2013 23:47:51 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015