The Lovers

The Lovers

In the woods, one fair Sunday,
When we were children,
We came upon a couple lying on the ground.

Hand in hand, ourselves afraid
Of losing our way, we saw
What we first thought was a patch of snow,

The two clutching each other naked
On the bare ground, the wind
Gusting in the new leaves over them

As we stole by, never to find out
Who they were, never to mention it afterwards
To each other, or to anyone else.

– Charles Simic

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