Wednesday, April 21, 2004
this morning sun, this winter's fine morning
you called through the window daring me find
as lover, as poet, signs of love pulsing -
then, not later - beware the rags of time.
sun, this morning you were her, beaming, bright;
doolish to wink or blink and miss moments -
a missed smile is missed like the blind their sight,
a missed kiss would build strong fools' monuments.
this morning sun, i felt her warmth on me
but with one cloud you showed me i'm foolish
for i miss her warmth, her smile daily
this side of the ocean - time mocks my wish.
this morning sun, this winter's fine morning.
you gave that i might feel what i'm missing.
etched at 8:53 PM