Monday, August 27, 2012
She adds an adage to her words
and wonders at its ring of tone.
It makes it all the more
interesting to have it sung
in trebles and strings
like a guitar that clings to your fingers
or a violin that shoulders your show.
She seeks him out from the crowded streets
and listens to his footsteps as he nears.
She takes a turn on a crowded bend
and loses sight of him to them
Why do the disappearance of love
trigger a thought
of lost and not found?
Why do the crowded types
forgo the lone
and wish upon them
of mistaken jokes?
Why do the blistered
walk without a smile?