I turn the turn and look
for you
Like in the picture-riddle,
where
We used to find a
missing person
And win the coveted
prize
The turn where, walking fingers
locked
We had emerged one day,
suddenly
From the winding lanes
in the green
knowing we had to part our ways
Nudging me gently on,
coaxing
With a touch in the
small of my back
And watched till I
disappeared
All is still there, the
green and the road
But the touch in the
small of my back
And YOU; my coveted prize are lost,
Yet, I turn the turn and look
for you.
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