Poetry by Richard C. Hayner

Clear Blue Lady

    You came out of the clear blue skies
    And helped me from my boat.
    Now I can't believe my smoky eyes,
    I no longer seem to float.

    And I think I'm gonna lose you.
    And I think I'm gonna cry.
    And I think of how they use you.
    And I think I'm gonna die.

    The oil has brushed across your shore,
    My hand across your hair.
    I fear that you'll be there no more
    And I'll be left to care.

    And I think I'm gonna lose you.
    And I think I'm gonna cry.
    And I think of how they use you
    And I think I'm gonna die.

    Richard C. Hayner
    1969 ©

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