i encountered this dance on
a journey to awayfar lands.

some bohemian style courtship,
invaluable roadside art.

i missed our meeting time...place.
and tears would have rolled everso
achingly sad and empty
down my swollen cheeks,
had it not been raining so hard
during that unfortunate passed-by hour.

and the moment that was yours,
neck to neck in swandance,
disappeared as short-lived fog
on a warm morning lake
with rising sun.

and the corner of mirrors will remain
blank without your ivory splendor
and swanshowers will be lonely...

but perhaps some hope remains.
i am told your calls echo in royal dux grasses...
i'll seek the song until all hope fails.

*if it comes back to you, it is yours...*

09/03/2002

Posted on 09/03/2002
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