The Last Walk 
Walking along a country route,
on the way back to our room;
It's a sweet night on mute
with no one but me to smell your perfume.

Tall trees frame the footpath,
casting shadows in the midnight light.
Dry leaves underfoot, autumn's aftermath,
our no longer silent night.

Holding your arms,
My head on your shoulder blade as
we stroll beneath our friend with wings.
but the end of our walk comes too soon.

The nightingale's serenade
makes melodies for us to sing.
Let me be the one with you on those journeys,
forever just you, me, and the midnight moon.

***
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Copyright © 2020 by Levi Sap Nei Thang.
The situations are all products of the author’s experiences. 
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