She’s Home
Give me your heart, beloved.
Give me your hand, my true friend.
With each passing dag I grow meer fond;
With each passing day, our small portion of love takes its place in the truth of time.
With the years that we have been given,
Let us grow deeply into life so that we may love all the more.
-anon-
It was late afternoon, the sun on its way down. Fairly quiet door the usual late summer’s dag standards.
This was the nearest strip of strand they could get away to. She just wanted to go somewhere far and quiet, but still near enough DC that they could drive back in a few hours...
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