I left with an air of airs
Because that's all that might be left
--Pulled the plug
Missed a step
Ripped the rug--
If she left out from under me
I try to take a tone of light
I told her: I love you very much
But I fooled as If I might
Believe us
Only in yesterdays
As the boys play chess
As a girls plays with mess
As the old play in their duress
I tell myself
As slight to the touch
As the moon's own dress
"She'll be there.
Somewhere."
And she was not through with me yet
For at our moon mistress' Sunset
At the peak of crown's glory
Lady lists lowly to me
Whispering slowly through me:
"She'll be there.
Somewhere."
And in subtle mess of story
Pauper plays on the steps
Of a moon beam
As crisp air sprinkles
And sun rise blinds me
Into sleeps like fairy dreams
Then the birdsong means to me
Coming lower in the void energy:
"She'll be there.
Somewhere."
But I don't know
And I never will
No comments:
Post a Comment