Fine Memory Of Chana Along Lake Nefooey - Poem by David McLansky
I liked the way she walked the Road
Strong-thighed and brisk she stepped and strode;
She walked ten paces 'head of me,
How firm her legs in dungarees.
She stepped and kicked, an easy race;
I upped my step to match her pace;
But strode she off away from me,
I could not catch her destiny.
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