We walk under a scorching sun next to the river. He is my guide. Decades younger than me. Yet every time he speaks, I blush. His voice is soft. I barely hear him above the river’s song. As I move in closer to hear his stories of this ancient Indian oasis, I see the delicacy of his fingers pointing to the flowers. As we climb the rocks, I watch the muscles of his calves flex. The heat has my head spinning and the rapid waters my heart racing.
fan palm
fingers reach into the green
spring yearning
Previously published in ContemporaryhaibunOnline.com, Oct. 2010, vol. 6 no 3.
wonderful, Genie. Full of suppressed passion!
so sensuous. wonderful
Erotic.
excellent.
wonderfully evocative. at eighty four, I've been there.
the guide has really guided ur passions thanks for lovely lines
For each level you will Jump or fly without touching anything that is not solid ground. Any mistake can occurred it assured death and brings you back to the starting stage.