| At your leisure
you pace the front lawn,
a curious pattern of teary-eyed emotions.
Maybe you have yet to catch me,
spying just above the white sill of midnight
smoldering while darkness passes
with soft and watching eyes.
Your integrity has melted away,
your love has left you
like the puddles of spring,
oblivion evaporating from your hands.
How did you lose such sweetness?
Did the winds whisper
of truer truths
or victorious tales?
You let her slip
beyond the tide’s smooth ripples,
fearing that the moon
might recognize your face.
Perhaps her feet will find their way,
returning to the eve.
Meet her at the skyline
as it wilts to morn
and fear the burning things
she will not say.
|
