The Poetry of Gerry Anne Lenhart . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

48: Here On Robin Road

Here on Robin Road
It is so quiet
I can hear
The babies breath blooming
Smell yesterday's pink rose
And touch the good green earth
With only the sound
Of singing birds
Remember
All the questions
We asked?
Walking in the wild
Turning over rocks and stones
It must be more than beautiful there
Where you are
Do I have to wait?
Or can you tell me now?
Longer than forever
I will listen.

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