So much is lost in the shadows
that crop the view of the forest floor
where the wild ferns sway
just as lovers tangle with desire –
the longing for lush tones,
now dancing in the wind,
the promises kept and broken,
dreams that once were so vibrant
reality’s edge would fade,
and the expectation of your return.
The portrait, like a bottle of wine,
is nothing but an empty vessel
when the last drop is gone –
dimensions too are lost.

– previously published 2004

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s