Tuesday, March 24, 2009


I know the words your eye conveys
Speak not! But show in other ways

I, too, am love--feel your essence
Clinging to me, lifting presence

And they know, too, guilty others
Watching, reading, would-be lovers

Separated, yet still I breathe
You from my shirt and underneath

This waiting galls; The knowing I,
Bereft of you, would sooner die

Your poet’s soul, warm, unbridled,
Far too long has withered, idled

Hush! The longing, waiting, is passed
Love me now, this year ‘til my last.


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