Two lonely souls,
Intertwined, are
Wrapped in sighs and
Innocence.
There is no
Furtive groping, only
Sad glances in ocean blue eyes.
It was all so long ago,
Somehow she overcame,
What is almost a memory,
That time of wishing and hoping and
Pleading for reality.
A stone appears in a trembling hand;
Dim visions
Dance before untrusting eyes.
She will not fade into that time,
A year before, when sentiment began.
Autumn approaches
In a weeping haze; the fantasy
Is not hers to live again.
A stone drops from her hands,
Collects misery on bleak green carpet.
The courtyard is burning
And she begins to weep for a new day.
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Copyright © 1998, 1999 by Marisa Gates
Reflections can be sent to Marisa Gates.
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